THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


MANUAL 


OF 


EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY 


AS  AN  INDUCTIVE  SCIENCE. 


A  TEXT-BOOK  FOR  HIGH  SCHOOLS  AND  COLLEGES. 


BY 

DR.  GUSTAV  ADOLF  LINDNER, 

PROFESSOR  IN  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  PRAGUE. 


AUTHORIZED  TRANSLATION 

BY 

CHAS.  DEGARMO,  PH.D.  (HALLE), 

PROFESSOR  OF  MODERN  LANGUAGES  IN  ILLINOIS  STATE  NORMAL  UNIVERSITY,  NORMAL,  ILL. 


BOSTON,  U.S.A. : 
D.   C.   HEATH   &  COMPANY. 


COPYRIGHT,  1889, 
BY  D.  C.  HEATH  &  Co. 


Education 
Library 

&f, 
/Si 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 


THE  reasons  given  by  Professor  Lindner  for  the  produc- 
tion of  this  book  may  at  the  same  time  serve  as  reasons 
for  its  translation  into  English.     That  the  book  is  full 
of  vitality,  having  a  rich,  interesting  content,  and  offering  a 
satisfactory  explanation  of  those  things  which  others  merely 
affirm,  no  one  can  doubt  who  reads  it. 

But  in  addition  to  these  general  considerations,  there 
are  other  reasons  why  this  book  is  particularly  needed  in  this 
country.  American  teachers  have  certainly  demonstrated 
their  faith  in  psychology  as  the  only  sure  basis  for  a  sound 
pedagogical  practice,  but  thus  far  experience  seems  to  have 
revealed  to  them  but  little  intimate  relation  between  the 
two.  Both  the  faith  and  the  experience  of  these  teachers 
are  right.  Psychology  certainly  is  the  basis  of  true  teach- 
ing, and  most  current  psychologies  do  fail  to  reveal  what  a 
study  of  mind  is  able  to  do  for  the  training  of  mind.  The 
reasons  for  the  latter  fact  are  not  far  to  seek.  In  large 
degree,  the  current  psychologies  are  abstract,  rationalistic 
manuals  drawn  primarily  from  the  Scotch  or  other  metaphy- 
sicians, and  even  when  well  written  and  fairly  illustrated, 
they  yet  fail  to  excite  any  general  vital  interest  in  the  sub- 
ject; because,  starting  from  a  priori  rationalistic  principles, 
they  fail  to  touch  the  experience  of  the  student.  Lindner, 
on  the  contrary,  begins  with  experience  and  never  gets  away 
from  it.  Every  page  is  a  direct  incitation  to  introspection. 
Self-examination  seems  to  come  spontaneously  to  the  reader. 


Iv  TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 

Again,  where  the  current  text-books  on  psychology  do 
not  take  their  rise  in  metaphysical  systems,  they  usually 
develop  the  subject  of  psycho-physics  far  beyond  any  prac- 
tical bearing  upon  the  problems  of  education,  even  if  they 
do  not  tend  to  or  sink  into  an  irrational  materialism.  Lind- 
ner indeed  founds  the  beginnings  of  knowledge  in  psycho- 
physics,  but  he  then  proceeds  to  give  a  truly  spiritual  expla- 
nation to  mental  processes  and  products. 

Another  reason  for  the  lack  of  vigor  with  which  young 
teachers  pursue  the  study  of  psychology  is  to  be  found  in  the 
inherently  uninteresting  character  of  most  treatises  on  this 
subject.  Lindner  is  always  interesting.  His  explanations 
are  always  lucid,  pointed,  and  self-consistent,  while  every 
department  of  science  and  of  experience  has  yielded  its 
choicest  facts  to  enrich  the  content  of  his  book. 

It  is  well  known  to  every  American  student  of  peda- 
gogics in  Germany,  that  the  greatest  activity  in  pedagogical 
thought  in  that  country  is  to  be  found  among  the  members  of 
the  Herbartian  school.  They  are  attacking  all  important  lines 
of  educational  thought  with  the  greatest  vigor,  and  are  fast 
reducing  education  to  a  true  science.  The  great  secret  of 
their  aggression  and  efficiency  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that 
they  have  a  vital  psychology,  one  that  shows  the  genesis,  and 
the  development  of  thought  and  feeling  and  will,  thus  reveal- 
ing in  clear  light  the  necessary  stages  of  a  rational  educa- 
tion. Starting  with  the  given  in  every  department  of  men- 
tal life,  they  point  the  way  to  what  should  be.  Perhaps  the 
best  and  most  popular  exponent  of  this  school  of  psycholog- 
ical thought  is  Professor  Lindner,  whose  work  is  characterized 
by  great  pedagogical  skill,  both  in  statement  and  in  arrange- 
ment for  practical  mastery.  One  reason,  therefore,  for  the 
translation  of  this  book  is  that  English  speaking  students 
may  have  the  opportunity  of  drinking  at  these  living  foun- 
tains of  psychological  truth. 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE.  V 

"While  this  volume  is  a  direct  inspiration  to  the  teacher, 
it  is  at  the  same  time,  perhaps,  the  best  introduction  ever 
written  to  the  higher  realms  of  thought.  On  almost  every 
page  there  is  an  incitation  to  further  study,  and  the  whole 
book  is  a  fine  illustration  of  the  beauty  and  value  of  a  truly 
philosophical  investigation.  Starting  with  known  and  uni- 
versally recognized  facts,  the  subject  is  developed  step  by 
step,  with  ample  and  apt  illustration,  being  always  free  from 
dogmatism  or  befogging  statements. 

For  the  rest,  no  student  can  study  these  magnificent 
chapters  on  thought  and  desire  and  will  without  being 
impressed  with  the  marvels  of  his  own  being,  and  strength- 
ened by  his  clear  view  into  the  psychological  beginnings  and 
growth  of  passions  and  all  aberrations  of  character. 

It  is  in  the  belief,  finally,  that  this  great  and  good  book 
will  prove  a  lasting  blessing  to  him  who  reads,  that  the  trans- 
lation is  offered  to  the  public. 

CHAS.  DEGARMO. 

NOBMAL,  ILL.,  September,  1889. 


PREFACE. 


MORE  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  has  elapsed  since  this 
book  began  its  rounds  among  the  schools  and  the 
educated  public.  Its  path  had  not  been  smoothed, 
and  many  a  prejudice  was  to  be  overcome.  But  supported 
by  the  confidence  manifested  by  the  teaching  world,  it  has 
gained  a  firm  foothold  in  our  schools  and  institutions,  and 
now  begins  its  eighth  round  with  renewed  courage,  hoping  for 
like  friendly  reception.  The  author  is  conscious  of  having 
used  a  free  hand  in  improving  the  successive  editions,  and 
performs  a  pleasant  duty  when  he  thankfully  acknowledges 
the  assistance  of  all  those  colleagues  who  have  contributed 
to  the  perfection  of  the  book. 

As  a  reminder  of  its  origin,  the  words  with  which  the 
first  edition  of  this  book  was  introduced,  may  fitly  find  a 
place  here: 

"As  I  offer  these  pages, — the  result  of  many  years  of 
study  and  pedagogical  observation, — to  the  judgment  of  the 
public,  as  well  as  to  the  appropriate  regard  of  a  royal  educa- 
tional department,  I  regard  it  my  duty  to  say  but  little  con- 
cerning the  purpose  and  plan  of  the  same.  The  motive  to 
the  preparation  and  publication  of  this  volume  was  a  double 
one.  The  first  was  the  experience,  to  me  sufficiently  clear, 
that  the  existing  psychological  text-books,  however  valuable 
they  may  be,  leave  much  to  be  desired  in  regard  to  compre- 
hensibility  and  incitation  to  original  thought.  An  attempt  to 


PREFACE.  vii 

remedy  these  lacks  would,  therefore,  appear  desirable.  The 
second  motive  was  the  conviction  that  in  empirical  psychol- 
ogy one  can  and  should  have  regard  to  those  real  explanations 
which  lie  in  the  facts  and  which  can  be  derived  without  met- 
aphysical exposition;  and,  further,  that  one  has  no  reason 
whatever  to  limit  himself  to  mere  verbal  explanations — for 
what  else  does  the  old  doctrine  of  the  so-called  faculties  offer? 

' '  If  empirical  psychology  is  to  offer  not  only  an  aggrega- 
tion of  facts,  but  is  to  lead  to  the  study  of  philosophy,  it  must, 
though  not  philosophy  itself,  at  least  provide  a  foretaste  of 
the  same,  must  guard  against  all  incompleteness  and  super- 
ficiality by  the  earnestness  of  its  investigation.  In  this 
regard,  nothing  could  be  more  injudicious  than  a  presenta- 
tion of  results  without  sufficient  grounding,  without  organic 
development.  Therefore,  the  author  has  chosen  in  this  work 
that  genetic  method  which,  proceeding  from  the  known  and 
unquestioned  facts  of  common  consciousness,  seeks  to  develop 
the  psychological  laws  which  condition  these  facts,  and  which 
are  inductively  derivable  from  them,  whereby  nothing  shall 
be  set  down  which,  for  every  unprejudiced  and  thinking  man, 
does  not  follow  from  results  already  obtained  in  connection 
with  these  facts.  In  this  way,  not  only  positive  results  in 
knowledge  are  to  be  produced,  but  also  an  abiding  interest 
in  connected  investigation  leading  to  these  results;  for  in  the 
awakening  of  this  interest  consists,  finally,  the  chief  prepa- 
ration for  the  study  of  philosophy. 

( '  In  regard  to  the  relation  which  this  work  bears  to  psy- 
chological literature,  it  may  be  said  that,  for  that  conception 
of  empirical  psychology  which  is  here  the  ruling  one,  almost 
the  only  serviceable  points  of  relation  are  to  be  found  among 
the  thinkers  of  the  Herbartian  school.  With  the  latter,  how- 
ever, the  connections  are  to  be  met  with  as  often  as  could  be 
wished.  Herbart's  standpoint  was  that  of  empirical  psychol- 
ogy; only  this  psychology  works  without  metaphysical  or 


viii  PREFACE. 

mathematical  tools.  In  regard  to  this  point,  Herbart  him- 
self says,  '  I  rest  not  alone  upon  the  single  point  of  the  ego, 
but  my  basis  is  as  broad  as  all  experience  '  (Preface  to  Psy- 
chology as  a  Science). 

"And  herewith  I  commit  this  book  to  the  public.  It  is, 
above  all,  a  manual  of  instruction,  and  should  be  regarded  as 
such.  It  was,  therefore,  the  comprehensibility  of  expression 
to  which  I  felt  obliged  to  direct  my  most  careful  attention, 
all  the  more  because  I  am  convinced  that  the  most  abstract 
truths  may  be  clothed  in  simple  words  just  as  far  as  they 
have  been  clearly  thought,  and  that  true  scientific  treatment 
is  injured  by  nothing  more  than  by  ingenious  pomposity  of 
words,  and  by  phrases  behind  which  stands  no  thought.  How 
far  I  have  succeeded  in  my  task  '  to  bring  the  doctrines  of 
psychology  into  a  form  accessible  to  the  common  understand- 
ing, founded  on  facts  and  illustrated  by  examples,'  those  may 
judge  to  whom,  according  to  their  relations  to  the  school  and 
to  science,  this  judgment  is  committed." 
CILLI,  January,  1858. 


„ 
PBAGUS,  October,  1885.  '  G'  A' 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 
I. 

PSYCHOLOGY  IN  GENERAL. 

SECTION  PAGE 

§  1.  CONSCIOUSNESS  1 

§  2.  THE  SOUL  -      2 

§  3.  BODY  AND  SOUL         -  4 

§  4.  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY  -      5 

§  5.  PRINCIPLES  OF  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY  -                                   8 

§  6.  METHOD  OF  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY  -                      -    10 

II. 
THE  INTERACTION  BETWEEN  BODY  AND  SOUL. 

§  7.  FACTS    -  -       13 

§  8.  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM    -  -  15 

§  9.  CENTRALIZATION  OF  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM       -  -        17 
§  10.  POSSIBILITY  OF  INTERACTION  BETWEEN  BODY  AND  SOUL. 

FALSE  VIEWS  REGARDING  IT  -  20 

§  11.  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  SOUL  LIFE  -       21 

§  12.  RESULTS  OF  THE  INTERACTION  OF  BODY  AND  SOUL  -  25 

III. 

PSYCHOLOGY  PROPER. 
§  13.  THREEFOLD  DIVISION  OF  PSYCHOLOGY         -  -  -    29 


CONTENTS. 

PART  I. 
KNOWLEDGE. 


CHAPTER  I. 
THE  PRODUCTION  OF  SENSE-CONCEPTS. 

SECTION  PACK 

§  14.  SENSATION        .....  -      32 

§  15.  CONTENT,  STRENGTH,  AND  TONE  OF  SENSATION  34 
§  16.  RELATION  BETWEEN  STIMULUS  AND  SENSATION.  PSYCHO- 
LOGICAL LAW                                  -  36 
§  17.  THE  Two  CHIEF  CLASSES  OF  SENSATION        -  41 
§  18.  SENSATIONS  OF  THE  BODY     -           -           -  -           -      43 

§  19.  SENSATION  ARISING  FROM  THE  SENSES  -            46 

§  20.  SENSE  OF  TOUCH                     -     f     -  -      48 

§  21.  CHEMICAL  SENSES                         -           -  51 

§  22.  HEARING  -      53 

§  23.  SEEING        ......  56 

§  24.  SENSE  CONTRIBUTION  TO  KNOWLEDGE        -  -      62 

§  25.  BODILY  MOVEMENTS         -           ....  65 

§  26.  THE  SENSE-PERCEPTION  -      68 


CHAPTER  II. 

REPRODUCTION  OF  CONCEPTS.    WHAT  BECOMES  OF 

THEM. 

§  27.  CLEAR  AND  OBSCURE  CONSCIOUSNESS  -  71 
§  28.  FUNDAMENTAL  LAWS  FOR  THE  RECIPROCAL  ACTION  OF  CON- 
CEPTS -  -  76 
§  29.  ARREST  IN  PARTICULAR  -  78 
§  30.  REPRODUCTION  OF  CONCEPTS  -  81 
§  31.  SPECIAL  LAWS  OF  REPRODUCTION  84 
§  32.  REPRODUCTION  OF  THE  SERIES  -  -  86 
§  33.  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  SERIES  FORM  90 
§  34.  REPRODUCTIONS  AND  SENSATIONS  -  94 


CONTENTS.  xi 

SECTION  PAGE 

§  35.  REPRODUCTION  OF  MOVEMENTS  97 

§  36.  MEMOBY                                                                                       -  99 

§  37.  KINDS  OF  MEMORY                                   -  101 

§  38.  COURSE  OF  DEVELOPMENT  IN  MEMORY       -                      -  104 

§  39.  THE  IMAGINATION             -                       -  106 
§  40.  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  IMAGINATION  FOR  INSTRUCTION  AND 

MORAL  TRAINING        -                                 -  109 

§  41.  THE  CONCEPT  OF  TIME                                                         -  111 

§  42.  THE  CONCEPT  OF  SPACE.    THE  SPACE  SERIES  113 

§  43.  EXPERIENCE  IN  SPACE           ...  ne 
§  44.  CONCEPTS  AS  PSYCHICAL  POWERS.  PSYCHOLOGICAL  CULTURE  121 

§  45.  APPERCEPTION                        -                       ...  133 

§  46.  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  APPERCEPTION.    ATTENTION          -  126 

§  47.  FATE  OF  CONCEPTS.    REVIEW  AND  RESULTS       -           -  128 


CHAPTER  III. 
THE  INTELLECT. 

§  48.  THINKING  IN  GENERAL  -  -  131 

§  49.  THE  JUDGMENT        -  ....  133 

§  50.  THE  SYLLOGISM  ....  136 

§  51.  TRUTH  OF  THE  JUDGMENT  ....  139 

§  52.  THE  FORMATION  OF  NOTIONS  -  -  140 

§  53.  KINDS  OF  NOTIONS  -  -  142 

§  54.  SPEECH  AND  THOUGHT  ...  145 

§  55.  RISE  AND  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LANGUAGE  -  148 

§  56.  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING     -  151 

§57.  FANCY  -  153 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

§  58.  THE  EGO  AS  CONCEPT  OF  THE  BODY  -            156 

1 59,  THE  EGO  AS  MEETING-PLACE  OF  CONCEPTS  -           -       158 

^  60,  THE  HISTORICAL  EGO   -           -           -           -  161 

§61.  "WE"  AS  SOCIAL  EGO       -  164 

£  62.  THE  INNER  SENSE         .....  166 


ill  CONTENTS 

PART  II. 
THE   FEELINGS. 


§  63.  How  FEELINGS  AKISE  •       109 
§  64.  CONTENT,  TONE,  STRENGTH,  AND  DURATION  OF  FEELINGS  172 

$  65.  FEELINGS  AND  CONCEPTS    -  -       174 

§  66.  CLASSIFICATION  OF  FEELINGS  175 

§  67.  THE  UNIVERSAL,  OR  FORMAL  FEELINGS  -       177 

§  68.  SENSUOUS  FEELINGS      -  179 

§  69.  OTHER  LOWER  FEELINGS    -  -                   182 

§  70.  HIGHER  FEELINGS  •             184 

§  71.  INTELLECTUAL  FEELINGS   -  .           -       186 

§  72.  ESTHETIC  FEELINGS      -  -                         188 

§  73.  JEsTHETic  FEELING  IN  ITS  ELEMENTS  AND  AS  A  WHOLE. 

FORM  AND  CONTENT  OF  THE  BEAUTIFUL  -           -       191 

§  74.  ESTHETIC  TASTE  194 

§  75.  MORAL  FEELINGS     -  -       196 

§  76.  RELIGIOUS  FEELINGS     -  •             198 

§  77.  PERSONAL,  OR  EGOISTIC  FEELING  -           -       200 

§78.  SYMPATHY            -  202 

§  79.  RECIPROCAL  ACTION  OF  FEELINGS  -       205 

§  80.  VIOLENT  FEELINGS,  OR  PASSIONS        -  207 

§  81.  CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  PASSIONS  •      210 


PART  III. 
STRIVING,  OR  IMPULSE  TO  ACTION. 


CHAPTER  I. 

§  82.  DESIRE      -                                                                      -  213 

§  83.  SATISFACTION  OF  DESIRES  -       214 

§  84.  RELATION  OF  STRIVING  TO  THINKING  AND  FEELING  217 

§  85.  THE  INTERACTION  OF  DESIRES      -  -       219 


CONTENTS.  Xiit 
CHAPTER  II. 
THE  PARTICULAR  FORMS  OF  DESIRE. 

SECTION  PAGE 

§  86.  CLASSIFICATION  OF  DESIRES      -,  222 

§  87.  IMPULSE                                              ....  224 

§  88.  INCLINATION  AND  PROPENSITY              ...  227 

§  89.  RULING  PASSIONS      ......  229 

$  90.  THE  GROWTH  OF  PASSION;  ITS  RISE  AND  DECLINE  -  231 

§  91.  VARIETIES  OF  PASSION                     ....  234 

§  92.  VIOLENT  EMOTION  AND  PASSION          ...  236 


CHAPTER  III. 

WILL. 

§  93.  WILL  IN  GENERAL    -  ...  238 

§  94.  DEVELOPMENT  OF  WILL  -  -  240 

§  95.  OUTWARD  EFFECT  OF  WILL.     ACTION  AND  DEED  -  242 

§  96.  INWARD  EFFECT  OF  WILL.     FREEDOM  IN  MENTAL  STATES  245 

§  97.  REFLECTION  AND  SELF-DETERMINATION  -  -  247 

§  98.  PSYCHOLOGICAL  FREEDOM    -  -  -  -  218 

§  99.  REASON      -  252 

§  100.  CHARACTER   -  -  254 

§  101.  IMPUTATION        .....  258 

APPENDIX. 


§  102.  THE  DREAM  AS  A  PROTOTYPE  OF  MENTAL  DISEASE  -  261 
§  103.  PSYCHICAL  DISTURBANCES  WITHIN  HEALTHY  MENTAL 

LIFE  -  264 

§  104.  RISE  OF  MENTAL  DISEASES  -  266 

§  105.  CHIEF  FORMS  OF  MENTAL  DISEASE  -  269 
t$  106.  INTENSIFYING  OF  MENTAL  ACTIVITY  THROUGH  DISEASED 

CONDITIONS       ......  273 


INTRODUCTION. 


I. 

PSYCHOLOGY  IN  GENERAL. 

§  1.  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

That  which  is  extended  in  space  we  call  matter  or  mate- 
rial. A  change  in  matter  is  motion.  There  are  two  necessary 
conditions  of  motion,  time  and  space.  The  falling  of  a  stone, 
the  wilting  of  a  leaf  can  not  take  place  without  space  and  time. 

Since  space  is  essential  to  changes  in  matter,  these 
changes  may  be  termed  extensive  conditions  of  matter;  in  so 
far  as  they  concern  merely  the  outward  conduct  of  matter, 
they  appear  only  as  the  external  conditions  of  the  same. 

Hand  in  hand  with  the  external,  extensive,  or  space  and 
time  changes  of  things,  go  the  internal,  the  intensive,  or  the 
mere  time  condition*,  which  we  think  of  as  belonging  to  the 
ultimate  indivisible  elements  of  matter  called  atoms.  These 
inner  conditions  of  the  atoms  are,  of  course,  entirely  with- 
drawn from  our  experience,  for  whatever  falls  within  the 
range  of  our  experience  must  of  necessity  be  external.  Not- 
withstanding, however,  we  must  assume  that  the  inner  con- 
ditions of  the  atoms  have  changed,  when  we  perceive  a  change 
in  the  outward  aspect  of  the  same,  just  as  we  assume  the 
unchanged  state  of  those  inner  qualities  of  matter,  which 
are  entirely  unknown  to  us,  so  long  as  the  outer  conditions 
(effects,  manifestations  of  force)  do  not  change. 


2  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

There  is  but  one  group  of  internal  conditions  which  does 
not  elude  our  experience,  but  which  is  immediately  accessible: 
these  conditions  are  our  own  inner  states;  for  we  stand  not 
without,  but  within  this  group. 

Our  own  inner,  unextended,  time  conditions,  we  call  men- 
tal states,  or  ideas;  the  totality  of  these  is  called  CONSCIOUS- 
NESS; the  interpenetration  or  synthesis  of  the  same  on  all 
sides  to  the  strict  unity  and  oneness  of  the  "I"  is  called 

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

§  2.  THE  SOUL. 

That  which  self-observation  teaches  about  consciousness 
may  be  reduced  to  three  fundamental  facts. 
There  are  given: 

1.  A  multitude  of  ideas  (concepts),  which  come  and  go; 

2.  The  ever  changing  unity  of  the  same,  in  the  form  of 
consciousness; 

3.  The  union  of  the  successive  states  of  consciousness 
into  the  oneness  of  self-consciousness,  in  the  form  of  a  single 
unchangeable  ego,  or  I. 

The  interpretation  of  these  three  fundamental  facts  has 
led  to  the  assumption  of  a  soul  essence,  or  substance. 

We  distinguish  between  a  substance,  or  essence,  and  the 
conditions  or  states  of  the  same.  The  essence  ever  endures, 
even  though  its  states  change.  The  essence  to  which  all  our 
ideas,  and  all  of  the  inner  conditions  derived  from  them  cleave, 
we  call  the  soul.  Ideas  are  states  of  the  soul — the  soul  is 
their  bearer.1) 

The  unity  and  singleness  of  consciousness  enables  us  to 
draw  a  conclusion  as  to  the  nature  of  the  soul  substance. 


1)  In  the  technical  language  of  philosophy,  "essence"  bears  the 
name  substance.  States  or  qualities  are  called  accidents;  the  relation 
between  substance  and  its  accidents,  which  in  common  language  is 
characterized  by  the  word  "have,"  to  possess,  bears  the  name  inher- 
ence, and  is  one  of  the  hardest  problems  of  metaphysics. 


THE  SOUL.  3 

It  might  be  either  simple  or  compound;  it  might  further  be 
identical  with  the  cause  of  the  bodily  changes,  or  different. 

The  assumption  of  a  many-membered  bearer  of  soul 
states  is  excluded  by  the  fact  that  all  spiritual  conditions, 
however  changeable  and  contradictory  they  may  be  among 
themselves — the  simultaneous  as  well  as  the  successive — 
exhibit  the  highest  degree  of  reciprocal  attraction  and  inter- 
penetration.  Our  ego  presents  itself  to  us  as  one  and  indi- 
visible amidst  all  the  changes  of  soul  states,  which  would 
not  ba  possible  were  the  states  of  the  soul,  like  those  of 
objects,  divided  among  different  substances.  The  bearer  of 
spiritual  states  must,  therefore,  be  simple. 

Notwithstanding  this,  however,  it  might  be  one  and  the 
same  with  some  one  of  those  substances  upon  which  the 
states  of  our  body  depend,  since  these  are  also  to  be  thought 
as  simple.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  a  distinguished  thinker, 
the  philosopher  Leibnitz,  claimed  for  each  one  of  them  the 
character  of  a  representing  essence.  But  that  simple  sub- 
stance which  we  have  assumed  as  the  bearer  of  the  purely 
time  conditions  of  our  minds,  must,  under  all  circumstances, 
take  such  an  exalted  position  among  the  primal  substances  of 
the  body,  that  we  are  fully  justified  in  distinguishing  it  from 
all  elements  of  our  body  as  a  substance  of  a  peculiar  and 
higher  kind,  and  in  giving  it  a  special  name.  This  substance, 
of  whose  conditions  alone  we  have  immediate  knowledge, 
and  upon  which  the  processes  of  our  body  must  be  projected 
through  a  chain  of  reciprocal  actions  in  order  to  reach  our 
consciousness,  is  the  soul.  It  is,  therefore,  a  simple  sub- 
stance, or  essence,  different  from  the  body,  concerning  whose 
further  peculiarity  and  actual  essence  nothing  more  can  be 
determined  from  the  standpoint  of  experience.1) 


1)  The  further  elaboration  of  this  subject,  which  forms  one  of 
the  most  difficult  and  most  contested  departments  of  philosophy, 
belongs  not  to  empirical  psychology,  but  to  metaphysics. 


4  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark. — The  total  inability  to  compare  mental  with  material 
states  cannot,  merely  on  this  account,  furnish  a  reason  for  the  assump- 
tion of  a  simple  soul  substance,  because  we  do  not  know  the  inner 
states  or  conditions  of  matter  (the  analogue  of  our  mental  states). 
The  true  ground  for  this  assumption  is  the  unity  of  consciousness, — 
It  is  the  fact  that  we  unite  simultaneous  psychical  conditions  to  the 
strictest  unity,  and  that  we  relate  the  concepts  of  even  the  most 
remote  periods  of  time  to  one  and  the  same  spiritual  center — our 
ego.  The  materialistic  view  of  the  soul  is  not  able  to  establish  this 
point  of  unity  which  we  find  in  the  simple  soul  substance. 


g  3.  BODY  AND  SOUL. 

We  distinguish  between  body  and  soul  in  man.  They 
stand  over  against  each  other  as  outer  and  inner,  as  sentient 
and  spiritual,  as  compound  and  simple.  Notwithstanding 
this  opposition,  however,  they  are  essentially  related  and 
they  reciprocally  condition  each  other. 

The  living  body  presupposes  a  soul,  and  the  soul  presup- 
poses a  living  body.  The  body  from  which  the  soul  has  de- 
parted is  a  mere  "thing,"  and  the  disembodied  soul  is  a  mere 
"spirit." 

Aside  from  this  connection  in  thought,  experience  shows 
us  a  series  of  most  striking  facts  which  exhibit  the  reciprocal 
dependence  between  body  and  soul,  so  that  the  two  appear 
merely  as  the  two  different  sides  of  one  human  being.  Phi- 
losophy seeks  to  explain  this  double-sidedness.  According 
as  the  unital  or  dual  nature  of  man  appears  as  a  result  of 
this  explanation,  the  philosophical  view  will  bear  the  char- 
acter of  monism  or  dualism. 

DUALISM  regards  body  and  soul  as  two  fundamentally 
different  things,  which  do  not  allow  of  reduction  to  a  com- 
mon principle.  MONISM  is  either  materialism  or  spiritualism 
(idealism)  according  as  it  seeks  to  explain  the  spiritual  from 
the  material,  or  the  material  from  the  spiritual. 


BODY  AND  SOUL.  5 

The  conception  of  man  according  to  experience  proceeds 
from  the  fact  that  in  the  realm  of  experience  we  may  dis- 
tinguish two  large  dissimilar  groups  of  phenomena;  (1)  the 
group  of  phenomena  which  pertain  to  space  and  time'  and 
(2)  the  group  which  pertain  merely  to  time,  the  two  stand- 
ing over  against  each  other  as  outer  and  inner  experience. 

ANTHROPOLOGY,  or  the  science  of  man,  falls,  therefore, 
into  SOMATOLOGY;  i.  e.,  the  doctrine  of  the  body;  and  into 
empirical  PSYCHOLOGY,  i.  e. ,  the  doctrine  of  the  soul.  Each 
of  these  sciences  will  have  regard  to  the  other  only  in  so  far 
as  is  absolutely  necessary  to  the  understanding  of  the  facts. 

Remark. — Since  man  is  properly  regarded  as  a  microcosm,  in  that 
the  general  relations  of  the  universe  occur  in  man  in  smaller  propor- 
tions (the  human  soul  is  formed  in  the  image  of  God),  any  given  view 
of  the  relation  between  the  spiritual  and  the  bodily  in  man  is  depend- 
ent upon  the  philosophical  view  which  is  held  concerning  the  uni- 
verse, and  is  in  a  certain  sense  only  a  copy  of  the  latter.  Dualism 
as  a  fundamental  philosophical  conception  was  introduced  into  mod- 
ern philosophy  by  Descartes  (f  1650),  who  assumed  two  separate  sub- 
stances, the  thinking  substance,  and  the  material  substance  (thought 
and  extension).  His  successor,  Spinoza,  is  the  father  of  Monism,  in 
that  he  taught  that  there  is  but  one  infinite  substance,  which  exhibits 
itself  to  us  from  different  sides  as  mind  and  nature.  This  thought 
was  further  extended  in  Schelling's  philosophy  of  identity.  In  this 
system  matter  and  mind  stand  side  by  side  as  different  though  equal 
forms  of  manifestation  of  one  fundamental  principle.  The  monism 
of  Spinoza  and  Schelling  separates  into  the  spiritualistic  branch, 
which  finds  its  most  extreme  expression  in  Fichte's  absolute  ego,  and 
into  the  realistic-materialistic  branch,  which  begins  with  John  Locke 
(t  1704),  and  has  its  most  significant  continuance  in  the  philosophy  of 
the  French  clearing-up  period,  as  well  as  in  modern  materialism. 


g  4.  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

It  is,  in  general,  the  problem  of  psychology  to  investi- 
gate the  natural  laws  of  soul  life,  and  from  these  to  explain 
the  manifoldness  of  soul  phenomena.  In  the  solution  of  this 


6  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

problem  either  of  two  ways  may  be  pursued:  that  of  deduc- 
tion, which  leads  from  the  universal  to  the  particular;  or  that 
of  induction,  which  mounts  from  the  particular  to  the  univer- 
sal. The  first  way  characterizes  the  path  of  speculation,  upon 
which  the  philosophical  sciences  proceed;  the  latter  way  shows 
the  course  of  experience,  which  the  empirical  sciences  pursue. 

Accordingly,  rational  or  speculative  psychology  as  a  part 
of  philosophy  is  distinguished  from  empirical  psychology  as 
one  of  the  sciences  of  experience.  While  the  natural  sciences 
with  the  help  of  the  inductive  method — founded  by  Bacon  of 
Verulam  (t  1626),  and  applied  by  Newton  with  such  brilliant 
results — pursues  its  own  way,  entirely  independent  of  meta- 
physical investigation,  psychology  has  been  treated,  until 
very  recent  times,  almost  entirely  as  a  philosophical  doctrine, 
in  that  metaphysical  theories  which  have  been  posited  con- 
cerning existence  in  general  have  been  applied  to  the  soul. 
The  process  was  a  deductive  one.  It  is  on  this  account  that 
as  many  psychologies  have  arisen  as  there  are  philosophical 
schools. 

In  opposition  to  this  conception,  empirical  psychology 
has  set  itself  the  task  of  proceeding  from  the  particular  facts 
of  consciousness,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  method  of 
induction,  to  base  upon  them  an  explanatory  theory  of  soul 
life.  Empirical  psychology  has  this  double  advantage  over 
the  natural  sciences:  first,  that  these  particular  facts  of  con- 
sciousness as  objects  of  inner  experience  are  immediately 
accessible,  whereas  the  objects  of  external  experience  in  the 
natural  sciences  are  only  mediately  known1;  i.  e.,  by  being 
brought  to  consciousness  through  the  senses;  and  second, 
that  the  abundance  of  these  facts  is  extraordinary,  on  account 
of  the  ever-changing  events  of  soul  life  and  of  the  multiplicity 
of  minds. 

It  finds  itself  at  a  disadvantage,  however,  in  so  far  as  the 
elements  of  psychological  facts,  on  account  of  the  unity  of 


EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY.  7 

consciousness,  are  not  given  separate,  but  sometimes  mani- 
fest such  a  complication  that  they  become  problems  for  psy- 
chology, though  being  its  sources  of  knowledge. !) 

While  for  outer  experience  everything  divides  according 
to  space  and  time,  and  may  be  separated  for  clearness  of 
human  knowledge,  the  events  of  inner  experience  do  indeed 
exhibit  succession  in  time,  but  no  juxtaposition  in  space. 
The  knowledge  of  the  original  connection  of  the  elements  of 
soul  life  is,  therefore,  much  more  difficult  than  is  the  case 
with  changes  in  space  and  time,  and  it  need  not,  therefore, 
seem  strange  to  us,  that  until  the  most  recent  times,  the 
applicability  of  the  causal  notion  to  change  in  mental  states 
has  been  entirely  denied,  and  men  were  inclined  to  regard  the 
faculties  of  the  soul  as  powers  which  rule  regardless  of  law. 

Notwithstanding  these  difficulties,  the  application  of  the 
natural  history  method  of  induction  to  the  sphere  of  inner 
experience  has  proved  itself  particularly  fruitful,  especially 
since  Herbart's  revolutionizing  investigations,  so  that  the 
place  of  empirical  psychology  among  the  exact  sciences  can  no 
longer  be  questioned. 

Remark  1. — Herbart's  service  accrues  not  only  to  rational,  but 
also  to  empirical  psychology,  since  his  psychology  is  based,  not  so 
much  on  the  single  fact  of  self-consciousness,  as  upon  the  whole  cir- 
cle of  facts  of  common  consciousness.     He  himself  says,   "I  do  not 
stand  upon  the  single  point  of  the  ego,  but  my  basis  is  as  broad  as  all 
experience."  (Preface  to  Psych,  as  Science.)  In  that  Herbart  applied 
calculus,  that  mighty  implement  of  investigation  in  natural  science, 
to  the  phenomena  of  the  equipoise  and  movements  of  conceptions,  he  < 
brought  psychology  nearer  to  the  exact  sciences.     It  is  true  that  his< 
calculations  relate  only  to  ideal  magnitudes,  and  to  ideal  relations,  so 


1)  These  complications  assume  extraordinary  dimensions,  be- 
cause on  account  of  the  continuance  of  conceptions  in  a  united  state, 
the  constitution  of  our  consciousness  at  a  given  moment  is  deter- 
mined, not  alone  by  conceptions  actually  present,  but  also  by  those 
which  have  formerly  been  present,  so  that  the  whole  psychical  past 
projects  into  the  immediate  present. 


8  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

that  one  could  only  imagine  an  application  of  the  same  to  concrete 
psychical  processes,  but  an  attempt  has  recently  been  made  to  reckon 
with  actually  measurable  magnitudes  within  the  realm  of  mental  life, 
and  to  produce,  by  way  of  experience,  a  measuring  unit  for  the 
strength  of  conceptions.  This  is  the  theme  of  Psycho-physics,  by  G. 
F.  Fechner  (Elements  of  Psycho-physics,  2  part,  Leipzig,  1860),  whose 
avowed  purpose  is  "The  fixing  of  the  measure  of  psychical  magni- 
tudes." 

Remark  2. — Empirical  psychology  as  an  exact  science  is  independ- 
ent of  all  fundamental  metaphysical  views  as  to  the  essence  of  the  soul 
(2  2),  and  from  the  beginning  it  renounced  the  solution  of  those 
questions  which  presuppose  such  a  fundamental  view.  In  what  the 
essence  of  the  soul  actually  consists,  how  it  enters  into  reciprocal 
action  with  the  body  as  known  in  experience,  how  the  simplicity  of 
its  essence  is  compatible  with  the  multiplicity  of  its  states,  and  in 
what  the  state  of  conceiving  really  consists,  will  be  explained  by 
empirical  psychology,  just  as  little  as  physics  is  able  to  answer  the 
questions,  What  is  matter?  What  is  force?  How  are  they  related? 
But  just  as  there  remains  to  physics,  notwithstanding  this,  a  wide 
field  of  investigation  in  the  kingdom  of  mediated  natural  phenomena, 
just  so  there  remains  a  broad  field  of  investigation  open  to  empirical 
psychology,  which  is  entirely  independent  of  any  metaphysical 
view  concerning  the  essence  of  the  soul.  How,  through  the  aid  of 
the  senses,  sensations  and  perceptions  arise,  how  they  are  treasured 
up  through  the  memory,  changed  through  the  imagination,  elaborated 
through  the  understanding;  how  the  struggle  of  concepts  calls  forth 
the  various  states  of  mind,  and  what  laws  obtain  here, — concerning 
these  things  much  indeed  may  be  imparted,  quite  independently  of 
every  fundamental  speculative  view.  Empirical  psychology  will  gain 
through  the  breadth  of  its  investigations  that  which  it  may  perhaps 
lose  in  depth;  it  will  not  make  rational  psychology  superfluous,  but 
will  be  rather  a  preparation  for  it,  as  well  as  for  the  study  of  philos- 
ophy in  general. 


I  5.  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 
The  principles  (sources  of  knowledge)  of  empirical  psy- 
chology are  the  facts  of  inner  experience.     These  are  gained 
by  means  of  observation  and  experiment. 


EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY  9 

The  observation  is  a  fourfold  one,  since  its  subject  as 
well  as  its  object  is  double;  i.  e.,  is  either  our  own  or  another 
ego.  We  must  distinguish,  therefore,  (a)  our  own  observa- 
tion of  self,  (b)  our  own  observation  of  others,  (c)  the  self- 
observation  of  others,  (d)  the  observation  of  others  on  others. 
The  last  two  kinds  can  come  to  us  naturally  only  in  the  form 
of  communications. 

Self-observation  is  the  most  important  source  of  psy- 
chological investigations.  Only  in  this  way  do  we  learn  the 
states  of  the  mind  in  an  immediate  manner,  in  order  after- 
ward, mediately  to  conclude  concerning  the  mental  states  of 
others  from  manifestations  and  communications.  Yet  this  is 
subject  to  peculiar  difficulties,  since  the  observed  object,  the 
soul,  does  not  lie  before  us,  separated,  like  an  object  of  outer 
experience,  but  coincides  with  the  observing  subject,  the  ego. 
The  latter  must,  therefore,  separate  itself  into  an  observing 
and  an  observed  part,  of  which  the  first,  the  deeper,  with- 
draws itself  from  observation;  for  if  one  should  wish  to  make 
this  also  an  object  of  observation,  he  would  have  to  attempt 
another  division  of  the  ego,  in  which  case  the  observing  part 
would  have  again  to  withdraw  itself  from  observation,  and  so 
on.  Self-observation  can,  therefore,  penetrate  only  to  a  cer- 
tain depth,  and  there  are  phases  of  consciousness  in  which 
the  plummet  never  touches  bottom.  Furthermore,  there  are 
conditions  which  one  can  not  observe  in  himself,  such  as  the 
beginnings  of  consciousness  in  childhood,  the  passions,  or  vio- 
lent emotions,  when  we  are  "beside  ourselves,"  and  the  vari- 
ous extreme  and  anomalous  states  of  mind  which  appear  occa- 
sionally in  individuals  only  as  a  product  of  an  extremely  pecu- 
liar individual  development  (diseased  states  of  the  mind,  etc. ). 

The  observation  of  others  must,  therefore,  be  added  as 
supplementary.  This  widens  the  circle  of  psychical  facts 
beyond  the  narrow  limits  of  the  individual.  We  learn  to 
know  different  individuals  and  in  the  most  varied  psychical 


10  EMPIRICAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 

conditions.  By  this  means  the  influence  of  inner  and  outer 
factors  of  bodily  constitution,  of  temperament,  of  education, 
of  association  and  calling,  upon  the  psychical  development 
is  made  manifest.  In  this  connection  it  is  particularly 
instructive  to  observe  children  and  savages,  insane  people 
and  criminals,  persons  in  whom  one  sense  is  wanting,  and 
other  "odd"  people.  (Animal  psychology,  Kaspar  Hauser. — 
Consult  the  works  of  Ideler,  Pitaval,  Knigge,  Adel,  Mau- 
chart,  Engel,  Buelow,  and  others.) 

Remark, — Of  all  the  vast  number  of  psychological  facts,  only  a 
few  will  serve  as  starting  points  for  an  inductive  investigation,  since 
most  of  these  facts  are  only  the  expression  of  a  highly  complicated 
psychological  state.  It  appears  necessary,  rather,  to  simplify  the 
psychical  data  through  designedly  produced  situations,  and  through 
alternate  exclusion  and  production  of  individual  psychological  factors 
in  order  to  establish  their  influence  upon  the  whole  product.  Exper- 
iment, which  plays  so  important  a  part  in  the  field  of  outer  expe- 
rience, is  consequently  not  to  be  excluded  from  psychology.  It  has 
essentially  contributed  to  the  disclosing  of  those  elements  of  all  soul 
life,  namely,  sensations,  according  to  their  different  peculiarities  and 
the  laws  of  our  knowledge.  The  accessibility  of  experiment  in  the 
territory  of  derived  states  is  indeed  very  limited,  because  the  deter- 
mination of  simple  elements  is  very  difficult  on  account  of  the  extraor- 
dinary changeableness  of  the  soul  phenomena. 


\  6.  THE  METHOD  OF  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

The  inductive  process  assumes  a  special  form  in  the 
various  inductive  sciences,  according  to  the  particular  nature 
of  any  given  science.  In  natural  history  it  becomes  a  descrip- 
tive and  classifying  process;  in  physics,  an  explanation  of 
facts  by  means  of  laws,  and  partly  by  hypotheses;  in  anat- 
omy, a  dissection,  or  separation  of  the  manifold,  while  in 
physiology  it  becomes  a  teleological  and  genetic  method. 
Empirical  psychology  employs  just  so  much  of  each  of  these 
methods  as  its  nature  demands. 


METHOD.  11 

As  a  natural  history  of  the  soul,  it  seeks  above  all  to 
bring  the  phenomena  of  consciousness  into  characteristic 
groups  according  to  similarity,  to  describe  and  classify  these 
groups  as  types  of  soul  activity.  This  in  particular  was  the 
standpoint  of  the  old  empirical  psychology,  which  hyposta- 
sized  these  types  into  faculties,!)  and  thought  in  thus  doing 
to  have  fulfilled  its  mission. 

They  forget  that  the  faculties  of  the  soul  are  mere 
abstractions  of  scientific  thought,  and  not  in  any  way  objects 
of  natural  history,  or  anything  real.  The  new  psychology 
retains  this  distinction  of  faculties  (Understanding,  Reason. 
Memory,  Imagination,  etc.)  that  the  learner  may  get  his 
general  bearings,  but  it  can  in  no  wise  consider  its  work  as 
finished  when  it  has  made  these  distinctions. 

As  an  anatomy  of  consciousness  empirical  psychology 
separates  the  highly  complicated  phenomena  of  the  same 
into  its  non-divisible  elements — namely,  into  concepts — and 
as  physiology  of  the  soul  it  seeks,  by  means  of  the  genetic 
method,  to  prove  how,  through  the  reciprocal  action  of  the 
concepts  in  the  course  of  the  psychical  development  of  indi- 
viduals and  of  peoples,  the  various  permanent  and  change- 
able conditions  of  consciousness  are  formed.  This  proof  will 
be  successfully  made  only  when,  as  physics  of  the  soul,  it 
seeks  to  exhibit  the  laws  according  to  which  the  reciprocal 
action  of  concepts  is  governed.  Wherever  notions  of  mag- 

1)  It  is  important  for  the  beginner  to  get  a  clear  notion  of  what  is 
meant  by  hypostasizing  types  of  mental  activities  into  faculties,  for 
the  vocabulary  of  the  old  psychology  is  still  employed  and  there  is 
still  constant  danger  of  falling  into  this  error.  It  Avould  appear  that 
a  constant  use  of  the  terms  employed  in  classifying  the  various  phases 
of  mental  activity,  such  as  memory,  imagination,  perception,  will, 
sensibilities,  etc.,  led  men  to  think  of  the  mind  as  an  organism  in 
which  memory,  imagination,  will,  etc.,  were  real  component  parts,  or 
organs,  just  as  the  arm,  the  foot,  the  mouth,  are  organs  of  the  body. 
In  this  way  the  type  of  mental  activity,  called  memory,  for  instance, 
was  made  or  hypostasized  into  a  real  thing  or  organ  of  the  mind. 
This  view  is  a  most  mischievous  one  for  true  psychology,  since  it 
has  led,  and  in  many  minds  still  leads,  to  the  barest  formalism. 

— Translator. 


12  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

nitude  appear,  mathematics,  so  important  in  physics,  may 
be  applied;  and  where  the  facts  are  supported  by  a  theoret- 
ical view,  the  hypothesis  may  be  proposed  in  order  to  be  able 
to  test  their  validity  by  the  consequences  which  follow  from 
the  hypothesis.  That  which  follows  from  hypothesis,  how- 
ever, can  of  course  not  be  taken  as  positive  evidence. 

Since  empirical  psychology  as  an  inductive  science  is  so 
new,  a  complete  carrying-out  of  these  combined  methods  in 
all  branches  of  the  intricate  life  of  the  soul  can  not  at  this 
time  be  expected. 

Remark. — The  credit  of  having  critically  shown  the  insufficiency 
of  "faculties"  for  an  explanatory  view  of  soul  life,  belongs  likewise 
to  Herbart,  who  on  various  occasions  declared  against  these  "mytho- 
logical essences."  Along  the  way  opened  by  him  follow  M.  W.  Dro- 
bisch  (Empirical  Psychology  and  Natural  History  Method,  and  First 
Elements  of  Mathematical  Psychology),  Th.  Waitz  (Text-book  of 
Psychology  as  Natural  Science),  W.  F.  Volkmann  (Elements  of  Psy- 
chology from  the  standpoint  of  philosophical  Realism,  and  according 
to  the  Genetic  Method,  particularly  the  second  edition,  called  "Text 
Book  of  Psychology,"  Coethen  1875,  which  is  really  a  new  encyclo- 
pedic work,  summarizing  all  the  former  efforts  of  the  author),  J.  W. 
Nahlowski,  C.  S.  Cornelius,  Schilling,  Lazarus  (Life  of  the  Soul,  in 
monographs,  Periodical  for  Race  Psychology,  and  Science  of  Lan- 
guage), Ballauf  (Elements  of  Psychology),  and  many  more.  These 
men  are  met  by  the  efforts  of  those  who  further  Psychology  from 
the  side  of  Natural  Science, — Hermann  Lotze  (Medical  Psychology), 
Theodore  Fechner,  the  father  of  Psycho-Physics,  C.  Weber  (Sense  of 
Touch),  H.  Helmholtz  (Eye  and  Ear),  Purkymie  (Whole  Department 
of  the  Senses),  Wundt  (Outlines  of  Physiological  Psychology), 
together  with  many  others.  Prof.  Robert  Zimmermann  (Philosoph- 
ical Propaedeutic,  second  edition)  also  treats  of  Psychology  accord- 
ing to  analogy  with  natural  science.  C.  Benecke  (Text-book  of 
Psychology  as  Natural  Science,  and  Pragmatical  Psychology,  with 
other  writings),  immediately  following  Herbart,  but  along  essentially 
deviating  lines,  has  directed  Psychology  to  the  method  of  treatment 
pursued  in  the  natural  sciences.  J.  H.  Fichte  (Anthropology,  Doc- 
trine of  the  Human  Soul,  newly  founded  in  the  way  of  Natural  Sci- 
ence) pursues  the  same  end,  so  highly  esteemed  to-day,  yet  not  by 
the  way  of  induction,  but  by  that  of  deduction. 


II. 

THE  INTERACTION  BETWEEN  BODY  AND  SOUL. 

g  7.  FACTS. 

Mental  states  or  activities  are  conditioned  in  their  origin 
and  course  by  processes  which  go  on  within  our  bodily  organ- 
ism. All  knowledge  of  changes,  or  of  events  taking  place 
around  us,  comes  to  us  only  through  physical  excitations, 
which,  impelled  by  external  occurrence,  affect  our  organs  of 
sense.  All  activity  from  within  outward,  wherein  our  mas- 
tery over  the  external  world  manifests  itself,  arises  only 
through  the  movement  of  members  of  the  body,  which  is  called 
forth  by  certain  acts  of  the  soul  (Will). 

Soul  and  body,  spirit  and  material  organism,  work  to- 
gether involuntarily.  The  body  continually  affects  the  mind, 
in  that  the  material  changes  which  accompany  the  continu- 
ance of  the  life-process  are  reflected  in  our  consciousness,  and 
thus  fill  a  significant  part  of  this  consciousness;  the  body 
affects  the  mind  also,  in  that  the  bodily  assistance  necessary 
in  all  mental  acts  or  states  is  directly  dependent  upon  the 
normal  or  the  disturbed  condition  of  the  nervous  system, 
and  indirectly  upon  the  general  condition  of  the  whole  body. 

The  mind  in  turn  reacts  upon  the  body,  in  that  all 
mental  states,  entirely  aside  from  voluntary  movements,  are 
manifested  in  minute  bodily  movements,  and  are  reflected 
now  in  stronger,  now  in  weaker  affections  of  the  organic 
bodily  functions.  It  is  upon  these  delicate  movements  that 
play  of  feature  and  its  permanent  record,  the  physiognomy , 


14  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

rest.  Upon  this  influence  depends,  also,  that  promotion  or 
depression  of  the  bodily  welfare  which,  proceeding  from  the 
soul,  rules  the  body.  Laughing  and  crying,  emotions  and 
passions  belong  here.  Contentment  of  soul  is*  a  source  of 
bodily  health;  passions  and  emotions  which  too  powerfully 
affect  the  mind  injure  the  body  also. 

The  body  appears,  therefore,  to  be  "a  system  of  organ- 
ized material  expedients,  calculated  to  concentrate  all  sorts 
of  excitations  in  such  a  manner  that  they  work  upon  the 
soul,  and  on  the  other  hand  to  distribute  its  impulses  again 
upon  the  surrounding  world"  (Lotze).  The  body  is  an  organ- 
ism whose  noblest  organ,  the  nervous  system,  has  the  func- 
tion of  accompanying  all  conditions  of  the  soul  with  sympa- 
thetic vibrations,  after  the  analogy  of  the  sounding-board. 
This  accompaniment  of  mental  by  bodily  conditions  may  be 
called  PHYSIOLOGICAL  RESONANCE.  It  is  not  without  its  reflex 
action  upon  the  soul  (?  12). 

Remark. — The  dependence  of  the  soul  upon  the  body  is  great. 
The  condition  of  depressed  or  elated  vital  activity  is  imparted  from 
the  body  to  the  mind.  In  the  morning  we  are  more  disposed  to  men- 
tal work  than  in  the  evening.  Hens  sana  habitat  in  corpore  sano. 
Climate  and  temperature,  food  and  poison,  the  indulgence  in  spir- 
ituous drinks — all  of  these  indirectly  affect  the  mind  through  the 
body.  Hunger  produces  delirium.  The  sharp  fluids  in  the  stomach 
of  the  wolf  and  the  tiger  excite  cruelty  and  a  ferocious  nature.  Men 
are  predisposed  to  many  crimes  and  passions  on  account  of  the 
organic  nature  of  the  body.  We  see  the  dependence  of  the  soul 
upon  the  body  most  clearly  in  the  various  bodily  stages  arising  from 
age.  The  maximum  and  the  minimum  of  developed  vital  activity, 
the  former  in  middle,  and  the  latter  in  old  age,  are  the  same  for  the 
body  as  for  the  mind.  The  rare  exceptions  where  men  of  extraordi- 
nary mental  power  still  retain  their  mental  ability  in  old  age,  as  a 
Sophocles,  a  Voltaire,  a  Goethe,  an  Alexander  von  Humboldt,  do  not 
destroy,  but  only- prove  the  rule. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  body  depends  in  a  high  degree 
upon  the  soul.  Its  health  or  sickness,  its  beauty  or  ugliness  are  not 


THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM.  15 

alone  the  product  of  fixed  natural  forces,  but  are  in  great  degree  the 
creation  of  the  soul  itself.  The  mind  assists  the  body  in  its  growth 
and  in  its  decay.  Facts  of  medicine  and  physiognomy  prove  this. 
Our  judgment  of  a  man  is  chiefly  determined  by  his  physiognomy, 
because  we  ascribe  this  to  the  character  of  his  mind.  The  errors 
which  we  make,  in  that  we  mistake  a  stupid  fellow  with  a  high  brow 
for  a  genius,  or  a  scamp  with  a  smooth  face  for  a  gentleman,  do  not 
disprove  the  general  law  of  the  dependence  of  bodily  form  upon  men- 
tal character,  any  more  than  the  fact  that  Socrates,  one  of  the  noblest 
of  men,  was  not  more  distinguished  for  external  beauty. 


2  8.  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

The  nervous  system  is  the  organ  of  interaction  between 
body  and  mind.  The  elements  of  the  nervous  system  may,  in 
anatomical  regard,  be  reduced  to  two  essentially  different 
structures.  These  are  nerve  filaments,  or  fibers,  and  nerve 
cells. 

Out  of  many  of  these  parallel  nerve  filaments,  or  fibers, 
arise  the  nerves  themselves.  They  branch  out  through  the 
whole  body,  terminating  at  its  surface,  and  form  the  periph- 
eral parts  of  the  nervous  system,  whereas  the  nerve  tex- 
tures arising  from  the  accumulation  of  nerve  cells,  or  gangli- 
ons, constitute  the  central  parts  of  the  nervous  system. 

This  anatomical  difference  of  structure  corresponds  to 
physiological  function.  It  is  the  office  of  the  nerve  filaments 
to  transmit  in  the  direction  of  their  length  the  conditions  of 
excitation  which  have  been  produced  in  them  and  to  effect 
the  contraction  of  muscles,  or  to  arouse  the  sensibility  of  the 
central  parts.  The  nerve  fibers,  therefore,  are  extended  from 
some  peripheral  structure  of  the  body  to  a  nerve  center.  If 
the  peripheral  structure  is  a  muscle,  the  transmission  of  the 
excitation  is  in  centrifugal  direction;  i.  e.,  from  the  center 
towards  the  surface,  and  ends  in  a  contraction  of  the  muscles; 
that  is  to  say,  in  a  movement.  If,  on  the  contrary,  the  periph- 


16  EMPIRICAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 

eral  structure  is  a  sensitive  place  on  the  skin,  the  transmission 
is  in  centripetal  direction;  i.  e.,  from  the  surface  toward  the 
nerve  center,  and  ends  in  a  sensation;  in  other  words,  it 
realizes  its  power  to  arouse  a  sensation  in  the  mind. 

There  are,  therefore,  two  kinds  of  nerve  fibers,  those 
which  conduct  conditions  of  excitation  centrifugally,  and 
produce  movements;  and  those  which  conduct  conditions  of 
excitation  centripetally,  and  arouse  sensation.  The  first  are 
called  motor  nerves,  or  nerves  of  motion;  the  second  are 
called  sensory  nerves,  or  nerves  of  sensation. 

The  state  of  excitation  in  nerves  consists  of  a  change  in 
their  electro-motive  activity,  in  that,  according  to  recent 
investigations,  electric  currents  continually  pass  through  the 
living  nerve,  even  though  it  be  inactive,  and  the  electric  cur- 
rent suffers  a  negative  vibration  in  the  transition  from  a 
quiet  to  an  active  state. 

Remark  1. — The  condition  of  nervous  excitation  may  be  brought 
about  in  any  way  by  which  the  molecular  equipoise  of  the  nerves  is 
suddenly  disturbed;  that  is,  mechanically,  by  means  of  chemical 
agents,  or  by  means  of  the  so-called  imponderables  (light,  heat,  and 
electricity).  The  speed  with  which  the  condition  of  excitation  is 
transmitted,  is  for  nerves  in  the  living  human  body  about  sixty-one 
meters,  and  for  the  nerves  of  the  frog,  about  twenty  meters  a  second. 
The  function  of  the  ganglions  is  not  so  exactly  ascertained  as  that 
of  the  nerve  fibers.  So  much,  however,  may  with  safety  be  assumed, 
that  the  conditions  of  excitation  of  different  nerve  fibers  can  enter 
into  reciprocal  interaction  only  through  the  agency  of  the  ganglions. 
G.  H.  Lewes  traces  the  functional  difference  between  nerves  and  gangli- 
ons to  a  difference  in  property  or  quality  of  the  two.  The  property 
of  nerves  he  calls  neurility;  that  of  ganglions,  sensibility.  (Compare 
G.  H.  Lewes,  "The  Physiology  of  Daily  Life,"  Chap.  8.) 

Remark  2. — The  question  of  electric  currents  in  nerves  when  in 
a  quiescent  state,  which,  since  Galvaui's  investigations,  and  particu- 
larly since  the  discovery  of  the  electric  current  in  the  frog,  has  been 
solved  by  the  experiments  of  du  Bois-Reymond.  This  investigator 


CENTRALIZATION  OF  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM.          17 

obtained  direct  proof  of  the  nerve  stream  by  means  of  a  highly  sen- 
sitive multiplicator  of  24,160  coils.  The  result  was  contrary  to  expec- 
tation. It  was  supposed  that  the  inactive  nerve  would  allow  the 
magnetic  needle  to  remain  at  rest,  and  that  a  deviation  of  the  needle 
would  only  occur  when  the  so-called  nerve  principle  was  aroused  into 
activity.  The  contrary,  however,  was  shown  to  be  the  fact,  namely, 
that  the  quiescent  nerve  has  a  constant  electro-motive  activity,  and 
that  through  excitation  it  experiences  a  change  in  a  negative  sense. 
Also  the  involuntary  contraction  or  a  cramping  of  muscles  (tetanus) 
in  the  living  human  body  is  connected  with  negative  fluctuations,  as 
one  may  likewise  convince  himself  with  the  multiplicator.  (Compare 
the  very  diffuse  paper  of  C.  du  Bois-Eeymond  on  "Animal  Elec- 
tricity.") 


2  9.  CENTRALIZATION  OF  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

A  certain  centralization  of  the  whole  nervous  system  is 
brought  about  by  the  system  of  ganglions,  which  are  accumu- 
lated at  certain  points  in  the  body  and  connected  by  nerve 
fibers. 

This  centralization  is,  however,  a  double  one;  first,  in 
the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  a  system  which  has  its  seat  in 
the  brain  and  spinal  cord,  and  which  with  its  peripheral 
subdivisions  forms  the  so-called  cerebro  spinal  system-  and 
second,  in  a  less  strict  sense,  that  which,  independent  of 
the  cerebro  spinal  system,  has  its  center  in  scattered  gan- 
glions, and  is  called  the  sympathetic  nervous  system.  Only 
the  first  of  these  stands  in  immediate  relation  to  mental 
activity. 

The  spinal  cord  is  the  first  place  of  entrance  and  exit 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  peripheral  cerebro  nerves.  Each 
nerve  divides,  just  before  its  entrance,  into  two  parts  or 
roots,  the  anterior  root  containing  the  motor  fibers  of  the 
united  nerve,  and  the  posterior  root  the  sensory  fibers. 

In  this  way  thirty-one  pairs  of  roots  enter  the  opening 
of  the  spinal  column  between  the  successive  vertebrae. 


18  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

The  spinal  cord,  whose  cross-section  exposes  a  reddish, 
ganglion-like  nerve  mass,  the  so-called  gray  matter,  performs 
the  double  office  of  a  center,  and  of  a  conductor.  It  is  a 
center  because  it  can  change  the  sense  excitations  of  the 
sensory  root  into  motor  impulses  through  the  anterior  root, 
by  transmitting  the  same  through  a  cross  connection,  the 
excitation  not  having  reached  the  brain  or  affected  the 
mind  at  all,  as  has  been  observed  on  decapitated  animals, 
and  on  those  from  which  the  brain  has  been  removed.  This 
transfer  of  an  excitation  of  sensation  into  one  of  motion  pro- 
duces the  so-called  reflex,  action.  The  spinal  cord  is  also  a 
conductor,  because  it  leads  the  nervous  excitation  in  the 
direction  of  its  length,  from  ganglion  to  ganglion  along  well 
insulated  tracks  to  the  higher  centers,  and  finally  to  the 
brain  itself. 

The  brain  is  a  center  of  the  highest  order,  the  place  to 
which  nerve  excitation  must  be  projected  in  order  to  reach 
our  consciousness.  But  the  brain  consists  of  parts  which 
are  anatomically  and  physiologically  differentiated.  We  may 
distinguish  particularly  between  the  brain  elongation  (medulla 
oblongata)  which  is  connected  with  the  spinal  cord  and 
which  is  sensitive  to  nerve  excitations,  and  the  pair  of  non- 
sensitive,  globe-like  parts,  the  so-called  hemispheres  of  the 
large  brain.  Since  the  medulla  oblongata  is  to  be  regarded 
as  a  continuation  of  the  spinal  cord,  we  find  here  also  the 
two  functions  of  lateral  and  longitudinal  conduction  peculiar 
to  the  spinal  cord.  Reflex  action  is  here  also  produced, 
only  it  is  extended  to  the  whole  complex  of  motor  nerves, 
and  thus  brings  about  in  the  reflex  movements  a  greater  reg- 
ularity, and  a  certain  automatic  character. 

The  brain  has,  however,  the  fourth  function  of  giving 
bodily  expression  to  the  higher  mental  activities,  in  which 
regard  the  hemispheres,  on  account  of  their  great  mass, 
appear  to  play  an  important  role.  But  the  particular  office 


CENTRALIZATION  OF  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM.          19 

of  the  brain  and   of    its   various  parts  is  still  shrouded  in 
darkness.  D 

Remark  1. — Reflex  action  shows  us,  in  a  simple  case,  how  sense 
excitations  are  changed  into  motor  impulses  through  the  activity  of 
the  nerve  centers.  All  soul  life,  in  a  last  analysis,  consists  in  this, — 
that  we  receive  impressions  from  without,  and  react  against  them  by 
means  of  motions.  In  reflex  action  one  of  these  acts  follows  the 
other  immediately.  A  fly  lights  on  the  hand  and  immediately  the  hand 
is  withdrawn;  an  object  flies  before  the  eye,  and  the  eye  closes.  If  a 
whole  series  of  connected  motions  follow  the  external  impulse,  we 
have  the  automatic  movements,  whose  details  are  likewise  withdrawn 
from  the  immediate  influence  of  our  consciousness;  as,  for  example, 
the  movements  in  breathing,  for  which  there  is  a  special  center  in  the 
medulla  oblongata,  the  so-called  life-point,  whose  injury  causes  the 
breathing  process,  and  consequently  life  itself,  to  cease.  In  the  vol- 
untary acts  of  man,  movement  does  not  blindly  follow  sensation,  but 
between  the  two  there  comes  a  third,  namely,  a  series  of  reflections, 
which  involve  the  agency  of  the  mind. 

Remark  2. — The  sympathetic  nervous  system  is  superior  to  the 
vegetative  functions  of  our  organism,  the  latter  being  almost  entirely 
withdrawn  from  our  consciousness,  on  account  of  their  dependence 
upon  the  cerebro  spinal  system.  The  sympathetic  system  embraces 
the  contractile  structures  of  this  sphere,  especially  the  muscles  of 
the  blood  vessels  and  the  heart,  of  the  gland  ducts  and  the  alimen- 
tary canal,  and  also  of  the  reproductive  glands.  We  are  to  think  of 
the  activities  of  this  system  as  reflex  movements,  in  that  sense 
excitations  arising  from  the  life  process  are  transformed  into  service- 
able motor  impulses  in  the  scattered  ganglions  of  this  system.  The 
central  points  of  this  system  are  distributed  among  the  respective 
contractile  structures. 

Remark  3. — Since  sensibility  is  a  property  of  the  nerve  centers, 
which  can  be  aroused  only  by  a  condition  of  excitation  in  a  nerve 
fiber,  in  no  case  directly  by  the  cause  of  the  excitation,  the  apparent 

1)  So  great  is  this  darkness  that  Burdach,  who  has  gathered 
with  great  diligence  the  appropriate  pathological  facts,  remarks  that 
experience  has  taught  that  there  is  no  part  of  the  brain  whose  abnor- 
mal condition  has  not  effected  a  disturbance  of  mental  activity;  on 
the  other  hand,  that  there  is  no  part  whose  abnormal  condition  has  not 
left  mental  activity  undisturbed. 


20  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

paradox  is  explained,  that  direct  excitation  of  the  structure  of  the 
hemispheres  produces  no  sensation  in  the  soul;  i.  e.,  that  the  seat  of 
sensation  is  itself  dead  to  sensation. 


I  10.  POSSIBILITY  OF  INTERACTION  BETWEEN  BODY  AND 
SOUL.     FALSE  VIEWS  REGARDING  IT. 

The  interaction  between  soul  and  body  arises,  in  that 
the  soul  influences  the  molecules  of  the  brain,  and  receives 
impressions  from  them.  How  is  this  possible,  since  soul  and 
body  as  spiritual  and  material  essences  are  fundamentally 
different?  Although  the  answer  to  this  question  really  belongs 
to  metaphysics  and  not  to  psychology,  yet  we  shall  now  dis- 
close a  few  erroneous  presuppositions  which  have  surrounded 
the  subject  with  needless  difficulties. 

One  false  presupposition  is  that  cause  and  effect  must 
be  similar.  Even  within  nature  we  often  see  the  opposite, 
since,  for  example,  motion  is  transformed  into  heat,  electric- 
ity into  motion,  or  into  chemical  results. 

It  is  further  erroneous  to  assume  that,  in  the  interaction 
between  soul  and  body,  dissimilars  do  work  upon  each  other. 
Sense-concepts  are  only  dissimilar  to  movements  of  matter, 
in  that  the  former  are  inner,  and  the  latter  are  outer  states 
or  conditions  of  real  essences.  U  These  real  essences  which 
lie  at  the  basis  now  of  concepts,  now  of  material  phenomena, 
are  supersensible  and  do  not  form  objects  of  experience.  It 
would  be  hasty,  therefore,  to  assume  their  total  dissimilarity. 


1)  According  to  Herbart,  the  truly  existing  (the  actual}  consists 
of  a  plurality  of  simple  essences,  among  which  the  soul  essence 
assumes  an  exalted  place  without  being  fundamentally  different  from 
the  others.  The  coordination  of  real  essences  (monads)  is  carried 
still  further  by  Leibnitz,  with  whom  all  monads  are,  in  a  certain 
sense,  representing  substances;  and  even  with  Lotze,  real  supersen- 
sible essences,  similar  to  the  soul  substance,  lie  at  the  basis  of  matter. 
"Body  and  mind  are,  in  the  customary  acceptations  of  the  terms, 
not  totally  unliKe  (disparate);  they  are  different,  but  coordinate 
aspects  of  the  notion  of  substance."  (Med.  Psych,  p.  74.) 


NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  SOUL  LIFE.  21 

It  is  likewise  an  erroneous  presupposition  to  think  that 
interaction  between  the  atoms  of  a  material  body  is  not 
enshrouded  in  as  much  darkness,  and  as  far  removed  from 
exact  knowledge,  as  the  interaction  between  body  and  soul. 
All  explanation  of  natural  processes  relates  merely  to  the 
resolution  of  complex  combinations  of  reciprocal  actions  into 
their  simple  elements,  and  to  the  proof  of  the  mediations 
and  connecting  links  upon  which  the  natural  process  depends; 
but  explanation  reaches  its  end  as  soon  as  the  simple  and 
unmediated  is  reached.  It  is  just  as  difficult  to  explain  how 
an  atom  of  sulphur  acts  upon  an  atom  of  quicksilver  to  make 
cinnabar,  as  it  is  to  tell  how  the  simple  essences  of  the  brain 
affect  the  immaterial  soul  so  as  to  cause  it  to  produce  a  concept. 

Finally,  the  erroneous  notion  must  be  refuted,  that, 
through  the  action  of  the  body  upon  the  mind,  the  external 
exciting  causes  as  such  are  transmitted  in  unchanged  form 
to  the  mind,  so  that,  for  example,  light  and  color  would  exist 
without,  as  well  as  within  us.  All  that  the  external  exciting 
cause  can  do  in  this  regard  consists  rather  in  the  fact  that  it 
produces  a  sum  of  conditions  under  which  the  soul,  acting 
according  to  its  inner  nature,  is  able  to  produce  a  certain 
parallel  inner  state  called  a  CONCEPT,  which  answers  exactly 
to  these  conditions.  Outside  of  the  soul,  that,  for  example, 
which  we  call  "light"  is  nothing  but  colorless  and  lightless 
vibration,  having  a  certain  wave  length  and  a  certain  dura- 
tion. These  vibrations  obey  mathematical  laws,  and  may 
therefore  be  studied  by  the  blind.  Within  the  soul,  light  is 
an  original  inner  state,  a  concept  which  can  not  be  defined, 
but  only  experienced. 


§  11.  NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  SOUL  LIFE. 

The  nerves  are  conductors  which  mediate  the  intercourse 
between  the  soul  and  the  external  world.   The  sensory  nerves 


22  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

announce  the  occurrences  of  the  external  world  to  the  soul 
in  the  form  of  nerve  excitations.  The  soul  translates  the 
effect  of  these  excitations  into  a  language  peculiar  to  itself — 
into  sensations,  because  it  is  impelled  by  those  qualitatively 
and  quantitatively  determined  effects  to  create  sensations 
correspondingly  determined.  The  motor  nerves  are  conduc- 
tors for  the  impulses  which,  proceeding  from  the  soul,  cause 
the  muscles  of  the  body  to  execute  peculiar  movements, 
thereby  fulfilling  the  Will  of  the  soul,  in  that  the  Will  is 
translated  into  actions  and  deeds. 

The  excitations  of  sensations  which  simultaneously  and 
successively  move  along  the  nerves  toward  the  central  parts 
of  the  nervous  system,  are,  for  the  most  part,  extremely 
complicated,  and  are  compounded  from  numberless  primitive 
impressions.  For  example,  in  seeing,  every  point  of  the  field 
of  vision;  in  touching,  every  elevation  or  depression  of  the 
surface  which  is  felt;  in  hearing,  every  individual  tone,  exer- 
cises its  peculiar  effect  upon  the  peripheral  ends  of  the  nerves. 
These  manifold  impressions  come  together  in  the  central 
parts  of  the  nervous  system,  where,  through  reciprocal  inter- 
action, they  experience  the  first  degree  of  elaboration  and 
transformation,  after  which  they  first  begin  to  affect  the  soul. 
The  combination  or  synthesis  of  the  single,  primitive  sense 
impressions  into  organized  total  impressions  corresponding 
to  the  circumstances  of  the  external  world,  is  what  may  be 
regarded  as  the  first  service  of  the  brain  as  the  chief  nerve 
center.  D 

The  motor  impulses  which  are  to  execute  the  Will  of  the 
soul  are,  in  any  individual  case,  extremely  complicated,  since 
they  usually  affect  a  large  surface  of  the  muscular  system, 

1)  This  service  is  affected  especially  by  space  and  time  relations 
which  are  essentially  supplemented  by  the  assistance  of  the  central 
parts  of  the  nervous  system.  This  space  and  time  arrangement  of 
nerve  excitations  is  independent  of  the  content  of  what  is  felt,  and 
only  dependent  upon  the  combination  of  primitive  impressions. 


NERVOUS  SYSTEM  AND  SOUL  LIFE.  23 

in  order  to  cause  the  various  muscles  to  carry  out  the  desired 
movement.  For  this  reason  the  mind  of  the  infant  is  unskill- 
ful in  the  control  of  the  apparatus  for  moving  its  body  and 
in  managing  it  according  to  its  concepts.  The  desired  skill 
is  acquired  only  after  many  attempts  which  are  first  unsuc- 
cessful. Here,  too,  the  central  parts  of  the  nervous  system 
assist,  since  the  motor  impulses  necessary  to  a  combined 
movement  are  united  into  a  single,  or  total  state  in  the  respec- 
tive parts  of  the  brain;  so  that  only  a  single  impulse  is  needed 
in  order  to  produce  the  desired  compound  movement  of  the 
body.  D  The  coordination  of  movements  is  ascribed  particu- 
larly to  the  cerebellum. 

In  addition  to  the  business  of  combining  or  synthesizing 
sensory  and  motor  impulses  into  well-ordered  totalities,  or 
united  groups,  the  brain  has  also  the  general  function  of 
attending  and  mediating  the  higher  offices  of  the  soul,  by 
means  of  peculiar  accompanying  activities,  which  have  thus 
far  been  but  slightly  investigated.  This  activity  of  the  brain 
has  been  variously  conceived  and  misinterpreted.  Phrenology 
goes  to  the  greatest  lengths  in  this  matter.  It  assumes  that 
the  various  classes  of  soul  activities  may  be  localized  in  as 
many  spatially  divided  provinces  of  the  brain.  Since  these 
so-called  faculties  of  the  soul  are  nothing  but  abstractions 
without  any  real  validity  (3  6),  the  fundamental  view  of  phre- 
nology must  be  characterized  as  baseless.  In  the  life  of  the 
soul  all  factors  play  into  one  another,  and  all  are  mingled  in 


1)  There  exists  here  a  great  difference  between  man  and  animals. 
As  a  rule  the  animal  body  is  adjusted  to  a  certain  predetermined  typ- 
ical form,  calculated  for  a  limited  range  of  life  conditions,  while  man's 
body  is  capable  of  adjusting  itself  to  the  most  manifold  conditions  of 
life.  So,  in  the  brain  of  the  animal,  the  necessary  combinations  of 
motor  impulses  for  the  execution  of  particular,  and  often  very  com- 
plicated and  artistic  movements,  are  so  performed  that  the  animal 
does  not,  like  man,  need  to  learn.  The  spider  is  from  the  first  exceed- 
ingly skillful  in  spinning  and  running,  but  in  nothing  else.  Man  is, 
at  first,  unskillful  at  everything,  but  he  may  become  skillful  in  every- 
thing by  practice.  With  him  education  takes  the  place  of  instinct. 


24  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

reciprocal  determination  and  development.  The  elementary 
component  parts  of  our  consciousness,  namely,  sensations, 
must  be  distinguished  from  those  mental  products  which  are 
developed  by  training  and  culture.  Only  to  the  first,  which 
are  stored  up  by  the  memory  as  the  original  elements  of  soul 
activity,  may  be  ascribed  certain  localization  in  the  respec- 
tive portions  of  the  brain.  It  would,  however,  certainly  be 
unjustifiable  to  assume  localization  for  derived  states  of  the 
mind;  thus,  for  example,  to  assume  special  "organs  of  the 
brain  "  for  cunning,  bloodthirstiness,  talent  for  fine  arts,  etc. 
These  derived  mental  states  are  the  result  of  a  synthesizing 
of  many  elements  of  soul  life,  which  is  not  brought  about  by 
the  activity  of  the  nervous  system,  but  which  is  to  be  regarded 
as  the  peculiar  function  of  soul  life. 

Even  though  these  derived  states  of  mind,  for  example, 
the  phenomena  of  intelligence,  of  feeling,  of  will,  are  in  no 
wise  localized  in  particular  material  parts  of  the  brain,  yet 
they  are  significantly  modified  by  the  formal  differences  which 
the  physiological  resonance  (§  7)  of  the  nervous  centers  ex- 
hibits. In  this  way  one  understands  how  a  general  excitability 
of  the  nervous  system  brings  with  it  a  disposition  to  power- 
ful feelings  and  emotions,  and  how  a  cold-blooded  nature  would 
manifest  itself  in  mental  aspects  different  from  those  of  a 
choleric  nature. 

We  must,  accordingly,  content  ourselves  with  the  gen- 
eral fact  that  mental  states  are  accompanied  by  nervous  con- 
ditions (particularly  cerebral  conditions)  which  powerfully 
affect  the  mental  life  through  their  formal  differences,  that  is, 
through  the  energy  with  which  they  appear  and  through  the 
rhythm  of  their  progress  and  subsidence,  and  finally  through 
the  combinations  of  states  of  excitation  which  happen  to  be 
established  in  the  nerve  centers,  without,  however,  being  able, 
under  normal  conditions,  to  exert  a  determining  influence 
upon  the  soul  life. 


RESULTS  OF  INTERACTION  OF  BODY  AND  SOUL.       25 

Remark. — The  question  as  to  the  seat  of  the  soul,  which  has  not 
seldom  been  propounded,  has  indeed  a  meaning;  for  even  a  simple, 
non-spatial  essence  allows  of  place  determination  in  space;  but  where 
this  place  is,  and  whether  it  is  stable  or  variable,  are  questions  which 
offer  almost  no  starting  points  for  anatomical  investigations,  since  the 
expected  convergence  of  nerve  fibers  to  a  single  central  place  in  the 
brain  is  not  warranted  by  anatomy,  and  the  symmetrically  divided 
pair  of  hemispherical  formations  of  the  brain  exclude  at  once  the 
notion  of  unity.  Instead  of  the  expected  crossing-point  of  the  nerve 
fibers,  which,  besides,  could  not  be  a  mathematical  point,  there  may 
be  presupposed  a  nervous  PAREXCHYMA  as  sensorium  commune,  in 
which  the  activities  of  the  nerves,  as  well  as  the  static  pressure, 
extend  themselves  through  a  fluid  in  all  directions,  so  that,  no  matter 
from  which  direction  they  come,  they  must  meet  the  resident  and 
sensitive  soul.  It  is  true  that  in  the  extension  of  this  PARENCHYMA 
the  direction  of  the  sense  impulse  which  is  transmitted  to  the  same 
by  an  isolated  nerve  fiber  is  lost;  but,  as  we  shall  clearly  see  later, 
this  direction  as  such  is  never  aa  object  of  sense-perception,  since  all 
that  transmits  an  impression  to  the  soul  consists  of  its  individual  and 
fixed  quality,  which  can  always  communicate  itself  to  the  soul  through 
the  sensorium  commune.  This  sensorium  would  be  also  the  place  in 
which  the  nerve  excitations,  coming  from  various  sides,  would  enter 
into  an  interaction  similar  to  that  of  concepts  in  the  soul.  Though 
certain  physiologists  locate  the  seat  of  the  soul  now  in  the  pineal 
gland,  now  in  other  places,  yet  these  views  are,  of  course,  founded 
upon  mere  hypotheses. 


I  12.  RESULTS  OF  THE  INTERACTION  OF  BODY  AND  SOUL. 

In  mental  activity,  the  psychological  resonance  (§  7) 
manifests  itself  in  certain  states,  which  are  partly  perma- 
nent or  habitual,  partly  transitory,  and  partly  periodically 
returning. 

This  is  especially  true  in  those  formal  differences  ($,  11) 
of  the  nervous  system  in  general  and  of  its  centers  in  par- 
ticular, which  determine  the  course  and  departure  of  the 
mental  states  in  a  double  direction,  namely,  according  to  the 
degree  of  intensity  (strength,  liveliness)  with  which  the  men- 


20  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

tal  states  appear,  and  according  to  the  speed  with  which  they 
depart. 

The  permanent  quality  of  mental  conditions  in  respect 
to  intensity  and  excitability — as  a  result  of  the  permanent 
characteristic  of  the  nervous  system — is  called  TEMPERAMENT. 
In  so  far  as  this  degree  of  intensity  and  excitability  in  each 
person  is  a  peculiar  one,  each  has  his  peculiar  temperament; 
thinking  however  of  the  external  limits,  four  chief  kinds 
of  temperaments  may  be  distinguished:  viz. ,  the  CHOLERIC, 
with  the  maximum;  and  the  PHLEGMATIC,  with  the  minimum 
of  intensity  as  well  as  excitability;  then  the  SANGUINE,  with 
much  excitability  and  but  little  intensity;  and  the  MELAN- 
CHOLY, with  little  excitability  and  much  intensity.  The  chol- 
eric temperament  is  as  much  the  opposite  of  the  phlegmatic 
as  the  sanguine  is  of  the  melancholy. 

Since,  however,  the  intimate  interaction  of  all  organic 
processes  of  the  body  does  not  permit  a  separation  of  nerve 
life  from  the  other  organic  functions,  the  other  bodily  organs 
and  systems  have  a  certain  value  for  the  soul.  The  perma- 
nent condition  of  the  whole  body  so  far  as  it  has  an  influence 
upon  the  mind  is  called  bodily  temperament.  The  strong  or 
weak  constitution  of  the  body,  the  health  or  sickness  of  its 
organs,  the  quality  of  the  blood,  and  even  the  structure  of 
the  bones  and  the  muscular  system  have  their  fixed  value, 
not  alone  for  the  physical,  but  also  for  the  spiritual  life,  and 
belong,  therefore,  to  the  bodily  temperament.  Secondarily, 
also,  descent,  climate,  age,  sex,  etc.,  belong  to  the  same  in 
so  far  as  they  have  an  influence  upon  the  physical  and  mental 
constitution  of  man.  Therefore,  not  only  individuals,  but 
also  families,  nations,  races,  ages,  and  sexes,  have  their  pecu- 
liar bodily  temperaments.  But  it  must  not  be  thought  that 
these  influences  rule,  as  if  man  were  a  product  of  his  bodily 
constitution.  On  the  contrary,  with  educated  people,  the 
superiority  of  the  spiritual  nature  is  shown,  in  that  it  devel- 


RESULTS  OF  INTERACTION  OF  BODY  AND  SOUL.       21 

ops  contrary  to  the  bodily  temperament;  thus,  for  example, 
an  aged  man  may  have  the  mental  freshness  of  youth,  and 
may  still  be  cheerful  even  upon  the  sick-bed.  Only  the  ani- 
mal is  governed  by  its  bodily  temperament.  (The  greedy 
wolf,  the  timid  bird,  the  angry  lion,  etc.) 

Very  noticeable  is  the  influence  of  the  body,  especially  of 
the  nervous  system,  upon  the  mind  in  the  condition  of  sleep. 
This  influence  is  a  periodical,  naturally  recurring  arrest  of 
mental  conditions  and  activities  in  consequence  of  the  weary- 
ing of  the  cerebral  nervous  system  in  continuous  activity  of 
the  sympathetic  nervous  system.  Mental  states  during  sleep 
are  called  dreams.  They  belong  mostly  to  a  condition  of 
half-sleep.  The  partial  restraint  of  the  nervous  system  dur- 
ing sleep  gives  to  our  dreams  their  disconnected,  peculiar, 
or  absurd  character,  since  the  interaction  of  the  concepts 
proceeds  not  according  to  logical  and  psychological,  but 
according  to  physiological  laws. 

Herein  sleep  is  a  type  of  mental  diseases,  in  which  the 
healthy  life  of  the  soul  is  disturbed  in  a  lasting  and  abnor- 
mal manner  by  bodily  influences.  The  transitory  conditions 
of  emotions,  of  swooning,  of  intoxication,  of  narcosis,  of 
magnetic  sleep,  of  clairvoyance,  and  of  trance,  are  calculated 
to  show  us  still  clearer  and  more  strikingly  the  intimacy  of 
the  interaction  between  body  and  mind.  These  conditions 
will  be  discussed  further  on. 

Remark. — The  temperament  changes  with  age,  just  as  the  vigor 
and  excitability  of  the  nerves  change.  The  child,  with  its  tender, 
sensitive  bodily  structure,  inclines  to  the  sanguine  temperament;  the 
youth,  with  his  stronger  but  still  sensitive  nerves,  is  choleric;  the 
man,  with  whom  excitability  has  gradually  subsided,  becomes  melan- 
choly; while  the  dulled  senses  of  the  old  man  usually  cause  him  to 
become  phlegmatic.  Still,  there  are  phlegmatic  children  and  san- 
guine old  men,  and  temperament  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  quality 
of  character  gained  by  psychological  culture.  Thus  "  philosoph- 
ical phlegm"  is  compatible  with  a  choleric  temperament.  The  san- 


28  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

guine  and  the  melancholy  temperaments  are  called  the  temperaments 
of  feeling,  since  the  former  is  peculiar  to  a  cheerful  and  the  latter  to 
a  gloomy  state  of  mind.  On  the  other  hand,  the  choleric  and  phleg- 
matic temperaments  are  called  the  temperaments  of  activity,  since 
the  first  is  united  with  a  superfluity  the  other  with  a  want  of  mental 
activity.  The  view  of  Hippocrates  regarding  the  origin  of  tempera- 
ment through  the  mixing  of  four  humors  (blood,  choler,  phlegm,  and 
melancholy),  is  of  course  antiquated. 


III. 

PSYCHOLOGY  PROPER. 

3  13.  THREEFOLD  DIVISION  OF  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Although  the  soul  is  a  unit,  yet,  according  to  the  testi- 
mony of  experience,  it  is  capable  of  a  great  multiplicity  of 
states  or  conditions,  partly  simultaneous  and  partly  succes- 
sive, one  to  the  other.  These  mental  states  may  first  be  dis- 
tinguished as  original  and  derived.  Original  states  are  such 
as  can  not  be  derived  from  other  states  or  conditions  of  the 
soul. 

There  are  no  inborn  original  states  of  the  soul.  D  Only  the 
capacity  of  the  soul,  under  certain  circumstances,  to  enter 
into  the  rich  and  minutely  graduated  process  of  development 
of  mental  life  is  inborn. 

The  consciousness  of  the  new-born  infant  is  a  white 
sheet,  a  tabula  rasa,  which  gradually  fills  itself  with  a  defi- 
nite content,  in  consequence  of  interaction  with  the  external 
world. 

Out  of  this  interaction  proceed  the  original  mental  states. 
These  are  the  sense-perceptions,  color  and  sound,  smell  and 
taste,  physical  pleasure  and  pain.  They  are  the  building- 
stones  of  mental  life,  with  which  all  higher  structures  of  the 
soul  are  built.  Sensations  are  in  soul-life  what  the  elements 
are  in  chemistry  or  the  cells  in  physiology.  Of  sensations, 
therefore,  we  must  first  treat. 

1)  John  Locke  was  the  first  who  denied  the  doctrine  of  Inborn 
Ideas.     In  this  regard  he  gave  direction  to  modern  psychology. 


30  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Sensations  are  SENSE-CONCEPTS,  by  means  of  which  we 
grasp  the  external  world.  They  endure  in  the  soul,  even 
though  the  external  excitations  which  produced  them  cease  to 
act.  They  are  still  called  concepts  in  the  more  restricted  sense, 
for  example,  the  concept  of  my  absent  friend,  the  concept  in 
midwinter  of  the  splendor  of  spring.  Through  the  interac- 
tion of  such  concepts  higher  concept-structures  are  formed, 
in  which  the  original  are  no  longer  to  be  recognized;  as,  for 
example,  the  concept  of  God,  of  virtue,  of  power,  of  number. 
This  kind  of  concepts,  which  are  also  called  general  notions, 
ideas,  thoughts,  belong  to  mediated,  or  derived  mental  states. 

Other  derived  states  arise  through  the  meeting  of  con- 
cepts in  our  consciousness,  which  no  longer  bear  the  charac- 
teristics of  concepts,  since  with  them  it  is  no  longer  a  ques- 
tion of  WHAT  is  represented,  but  of  now  the  mental  activity 
proceeds.  The  mental  states  which  are  determined,  not  by 
the  objective  content  of  what  is  conceived,  but  by  the  sub- 
jective condition  of  the  conceiver,  are  the  various  conditions 
of  our  FEELING  and  WILL.  They  come  to  the  concept  as  a  new 
element,  like  the  exponent  of  a  relation  to  the  members  of  the 
relation,  and  always  presuppose  not  only  the  juxtaposition, 
but  also  the  interaction  of  several  concepts.  For  instance,  to 
the  concept  of  a  picture,  there  is  united,  as  a  subjective  ad- 
junct, a  feeling  of  pleasure,  or  even  the  desire  to  possess  it; 
so,  at  the  sight  of  misery,  we  have  the  feeling  of  pity  and  the 
impulse  to  help. 

These  derived  states  of  mind  are  in  general  distinguished 
as  feelings  and  strivings,  according  as  the  passive  or  the 
active  character  predominates.  From  this  arises  the  three- 
fold division  of  psychology,  into  the  doctrine  of  concepts,  the 
doctrine  of  feelings,  and  the  doctrine  of  volitions.  (Know- 
ing, feeling,  willing.) 

Remark. — The  old  psychology  hypostasized  the  three  chief  notions 
of  classification,  Knowing,  Feeling,  and  Willing,  thus  making  them 


THREEFOLD  DIVISION  OF  PSYCHOLOGY.  31 

real  faculties  of  the  soul.  Aristotle  is  the  father  of  the  theory  of 
soul  faculties.  His  faculties  are  directly  called  the  parts  of  the 
soul,  but  are  related  to  mental  activity  as  possibility  to  reality.  Of 
faculties  there  are  five:  that  of  nourishment,  of  sensation,  of  desire, 
of  locomotion,  and  of  thought.  We  find  the  greatest  extension  of  this 
doctrine  in  the  modern  philosophy  of  Wolff,  and  even  with  Kant  the 
main  features  of  this  system  are  retained.  The  latter  distinguished 
more  sharply  between  feelings  and  strivings,  and  thereby  laid  the  basis 
for  the  present  customary  threefold  division  of  psychology.  To  the 
modern  explanatory  philosophy,  which  employs  the  genetic  method  (%  6) 
especially,  the  faculties  are  only  general  class  notions,  used  for  guid- 
ance within  the  manifoldness  of  mental  phenomena,  but  in  no  sense 
are  they  principles  of  knowledge  for  the  explanation  of  these  phe- 
nomena. Just  as  in  physics,  the  specific  powers  of  nature  disappear, 
and  natural  laws  gain  ground,  the  further  an  explanatory  knowledge 
of  nature  progresses,  so  in  psychology  do  the  manifold  soul  powers 
vanish,  or  maintain  their  places  only  as  terminological  names.  Here, 
as  there,  true  scientific  progress  consists  in  transition  from  explana- 
tions in  name  to  explanations  in  fact. 


PART  I. 
KNOWLEDGE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PRODUCTION  OF  SENSE-CONCEPTS. 
I  14.  SENSATION. 

A  sensation  is  a  concept,  D  or  perception  of  the  soul,  which 
arises  from  the  transmission  of  an  externally  stimulated  nerve 
excitation  to  the  nerve  centers,  and,  through  their  agency,  to  the 
soul  itself.  A  sensation  is  therefore  in  the  mind,  even  though 
its  effecting  causes  lie  partly  in  the  body,  and  partly  in  the 
external  world. 

We  may  distinguish  the  following  stages  in  the  produc- 
tion of  sensations: 

1.  The  exciting  cause.     This  is  a  condition  of  physical 
motion,  either  of  a  ponderable  material,  as,  for  example,  pres- 
sure, sound,  molecular  action;  or  of  an  imponderable  medium, 
as  with  light.     Sensations  whose  content  is  clear  and  distinct 
depend  upon  periodical,  or  oscillatory,  movements. 

2.  The  attack  of  this  physical  condition  of  movement 
upon  a  sensitive  part  of  the  body,  either  in  unchanged  form, 
as  is  the  case  with  sound  and  light,  where  the  oscillatory 
movement  as  such  makes  its  attack  upon  the  nerves;  or  in  an 
altered  form,  when  the  peripheral  ends  of   the  nerves  are 

1)  In  this  book  Concept  is  a  general  term  for  any  mental  product. 
When  used  in  a  special  sense,  it  is  properly  restricted. — Translator. 


SENSATION.  33 

affected  by  the  movement,  not  directly,  but  through  a  change 
in  the  bodily  masses  which  are  directly  touched,  as,  for  ex- 
ample, in  the  case  of  impressions  from  heat. 

3.  The  condition  of  excitation  in  the  sensory  nerve  fibers, 
which  was  awakened  by  the  external  exciting  cause,  and 
which  we  have  characterized  as  a  negative  vibration  of  the 
nerve  current  (§  8).     This  condition  of  excitation  is  a  purely 
physical  inner  nerve  process,  which  has  no  kind  of  similar- 
ity to  its  external  producing  cause,  nor  to  the  sensation  to 
which  it  leads.     It  would  seem,  rather,  that  these  conditions 
of  excitation  in  different  nerve  fibers,  as  modifications  of  a 
common  principle,  namely,  of  their  electrical  aspect,  are  more 
related  to  one  another  than  to  their  external  exciting  causes, 
which  differ  considerably  in  kind. 

4.  The  transmission  of  this  condition  of  excitation  of  the 
nerve  fibers  to  the  nerve  centers  and  finally  to  the  brain  as  a 
center  of  the  highest  order,  in  particular  to  those  parts  of  the 
brain  which  men  are  inclined  to  regard  as  the  seat  of  the 
soul  (sensorium  commune).     In  this  process  the  condition  of 
excitation  in  the  nerve  fiber  experiences  another  and  final 
transformation,  because  it  here  meets  with  numberless  other 
conditions  of  excitation  which  have  been  conducted  by  separate 
nerves,  and  which  modify  one  another  according  to  the  meas- 
ure of  their  strength  and  opposition.     Only  in  this  changed 
state  does  the  excitation  succeed  in  affecting  the  soul.     In 
this  total  impression  it  may  happen  that  individual  excita- 
tions are  completely  lost,  and  fail  to  reach  the  soul.     Thus 
is  explained  the  fact  that  at  times  we  do  not  see  or  hear, 
though  light  and  sound  waves  are  exciting  our  nerves  of  sen- 
sation.     (Sleep,  swoon,  unrecognized  sensation.) 

5.  The  last  stage  of  this  process  is  the  sensation  itself, 
which  the  soul  creates  in  consequence  of   the   antecedent 
occurrences.   It  is  not  a  copy  or  image  of  the  external  thing, 
but  an  answer  to  the  excitation  which  proceeded  from  it;    an 


34  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

answer,  indeed,  in  the  "concept,"  the  language  peculiar  to 
the  soul.  Only  from  the  fact  that  the  same  external  things 
bring  about  the  same  sensations  in  the  soul,  do  concepts 
become  transformed  into  "signs,"  from  which  we  may  con- 
clude as  to  the  presence  and  relations  of  the  external  world. 

Remark  1. — The  sensation  as  inner  state  of  the  simple  soul  essence 
is  a  witness  to  the  spontaneity  of  the  soul,  which  has  been  awakened 
by  the  preliminary  processes;  the  sensation  is  by  no  means  carried 
into  the  soul  from  without,  but  is  created  from  within,  and  it  is  in  no 
wise  comparable  with  the  physical  exciting  cause.  The  application 
of  sensations  to  the  intelligent  apprehension  of  the  external  world  does 
not  mean,  therefore,  that  the  sensations  represent  or  image  the  quali- 
ties, but  rather  the  relations  of  qualities  or  of  external  events,  for  the 
relations  which  are  established  among  the  sensations  are  analogous  to 
those  which  exist  among  the  external  events  which  gave  rise  to  them. 
This  occurs  when  we  perceive  the  manifold,  the  single;  the  near,  the 
remote;  the  large,  the  small;  the  strong,  the  weak;  the  slow,  the  fast, 
etc.,  as  they  are  in  reality. 

Remark  2. — The  superficial  conception  of  our  cognition  inclines 
to  the  assumption,  that  by  means  of  sensations  we  directly  grasp  the 
qualities  of  things  in  the  outer  world.  This  is  not  the  case.  Between 
the  rate  of  vibrations  producing  a  tone  and  the  content  of  the  tone- 
sensation,  there  is  no  connection;  and  a  careful  analysis  of  color 
reveals  no  relation  between  the  color  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  length 
of  wave  and  the  rate  of  vibration  in  an  elastic  and  imponderable  me- 
dium on  the  other.  Only  science  succeeds,  by  indirect  means,  in  estab- 
lishing these  relations,  of  which  the  ordinary  mind  has  no  conception. 


\  15.  CONTENT,  STRENGTH,  AND  TONE  OF  SENSATION. 

There  are  three  things  to  be  distinguished  in  a  sensation ; 
viz. ,  content,  strength,  and  tone. 

By  content  is  meant  the  qualitative  determination  of  the 
sensation  in  regard  to  the  nature  of  the  exciting  cause.  Dif- 
ference in  the  content  of  sensation  corresponds  to  the  ' '  spe- 
cific energies"  (§  19)  with  which  different  sensory  nerves 


CONTENT,  STRENGTH,  AND  TONE.  35 

respond  to  outer  excitation;  whereas,  different  excitations 
within  the  same  department  of  sense  correspond  to  mere  con- 
trast in  the  content  of  sensation.  Hardness  and  taste,  sound 
and  color  give  different  sensations — individual  tones  and  indi- 
vidual colors  produce  among  themselves  contrasted  sensations. 

By  strength  is  meant  the  quantitative  determination  of 
the  sensation  in  regard  to  the  magnitude  of  the  exciting  cause. 
Greater  excitants  produce  stronger  sensations  (f  16).  With- 
out experiencing  any  change  in  its  quality,  the  sensation  passes 
through  a  whole  scale  of  quantitative  changes,  which  corre- 
spond to  the  increase  in  the  intensity  of  the  excitant,  its  nature 
remaining  unchanged.  According  to  the  measure  of  this 
increase,  the  sensations  from  one  and  the  same  class  of  excit- 
ants fall  into  a  series  of  continually  increasing  intensity,  as  in 
weight,  temperature,  strength  of  tone,  and  degree  of  light. 

Content  and  strength  are  only  different  sides  of  one  and 
the  same  indivisible  sensation,  having  their  source  in  the 
conditions  of  the  external  stimulus  (rate  and  length  of  vibra- 
tion in  sound).  To  these  there  is  added,  in  many  classes  of 
sensations,  still  a  third — the  tone.  By  the  tone  of  a  sensation 
we  understand  the  agreeableness  or  disagreeableness  of  the 
same,  through  which  it  announces  to  our  consciousness  "the 
measure  of  agreement  or  of  conflict  between  the  excitant  of 
the  sensation  and  the  conditions  of  life, "  that  is,  its  disturb- 
ing value  for  the  totality  of  the  life  process.  The  sensation 
is  pleasurable  or  painful  according  to  the  functional  disturb- 
ance which  its  exciting  cause  calls  forth;  i.  e.,  according  as 
it  furthers  or  retards  the  bodily  welfare.  When  the  lungs 
are  highly  heated,  a  cooling  drink  is  pleasant,  since  it  brings 
a  momentary  benefit  by  removing  the  excessive  dryness,  even 
though  it  should  prove  injurious  in  the  end. 

The  strength  or  intensity  of  a  sensation,  or  of  a  concept 
in  general,  is  figuratively  represented  by  its  elevation  above 
an  ideal  surface  called  the  THRESHOLD  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


36  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark  1. — The  contrast  which  arises  in  the  content  of  sensa- 
tions makes  it  possible  to  distinguish  them  easily,  producing  clear- 
ness in  the  single  sensation  and  distinctness  in  groups  of  sensations, 
since  we  are  able  to  distinguish  the  elements  of  the  group  from  one 
another.  The  distinctness  of  simultaneous  sensations  is  favored  by 
the  insulated  course  of  the  primitive  nerve  fibers;  that  of  successive 
sensations  by  the  capacity  of  nerve  fibers  to  distinguish  successive 
impulses.  The  running  together  of  the  nerve  fibers  is  the  cause  of 
the  obscurity  of  groups  of  sensations.  This  obscurity  is  greatest  in 
the  sphere  of  bodily  sensations,  which  extends  over  the  whole  sur- 
face of  the  body. 

Remark  2. — In  order  to  explain  the  tone  of  a  sensation,  one  must 
regard  the  nerve  process  called  forth  by  an  outer  excitant,  not  as  iso- 
lated, but  as  in  interaction  with  the  other  nerve  excitations,  whether 
occurring  in  a  nerve  center  or  in  the  general  "sensorium."  The  single 
nerve  irritant  finds  the  nerve  fibers  and  centers  in  a  certain  tension, 
resulting  from  a  plurality  of  excitations  which  flow  together  there. 
This  tension  suffers  a  certain  change  on  account  of  the  new  stimulus. 
According  as  the  present  degree  of  tension  is  elevated  or  depressed 
by  the  new  excitant,  the  sensation  appears  to  consciousness  as  pleas- 
ant or  painful. 


g  16.  THE  RELATION  BETWEEN   STIMULUS  AND   SENSA- 
TION.    THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  LAW. 

When  magnitudes  are  compared,  three  things  must  be 
distinguished  in  the  process  of  producing  sensations:  (a)  the 
external  stimulus;  (b)  the  degree  of  nervous  excitation;  and 
(c)  the  sensation  itself. 

Of  these  three  magnitudes,  only  the  first  is  accessible 
to  exact  measurement;  light-stimuli,  tones,  weights,  temper- 
atures, solutions  of  things  which  may  be  tasted,  can  be  object- 
ively measured.  With  regard  to  the  sensation  itself,  the 
single  degrees  can  not  be  exactly  distinguished,  though  at 
least  two  states  of  the  same  may  be;  viz. ,  the  condition  in 
which  the  sensation  is  just  noticeable,  i.  e.,  the  zero  point  or 
threshold  value  of  the  sensation;  and  the  second,  that  in 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  LAW.  37 

which  it  experiences  a  noticeable  increase  of  strength,  or 
intensity,  i.  e.,  its  value  in  marking  difference.  •  The  com- 
parison between  stimulus  and  sensation  must  proceed  from 
these  two  states,  which  may  be  subjectively  fixed. 

That  as  a  rule  the  intensity  of  the  sensation  increases 
and  diminishes  with  that  of  the  stimulus  is  a  principle  well 
established  by  experience.  "When  a  sound  or  a  light-stimu- 
lus or  a  weight  pressing  on  the  hand  increases,  we  perceive 
that  our  sensation  also  increases.  It  has  been  hastily  con- 
cluded, therefore,  that  the  intensity  of  the  sensation  is  pro- 
portional to  the  intensity  of  the  stimulus. 

This  is,  however,  not  the  case.  For  example,  let  a  cer- 
tain sound  continually  increase  in  strength  from  zero;  we 
notice  that  the  stimulus  is  present  with  a  certain  degree  of 
strength  without  there  being  subjectively  any  sensation  pres- 
ent. We  do  not  hear  the  ringing  of  a  far-distant  bell,  because 
the  vibrations  of  the  air  (sound  stimuli)  become  too  greatly 
weakened  in  passing  over  the  long  distance  to  our  ear.  Only 
when  the  stimulus  has  reached  a  certain  degree  does  a  sen- 
sation appear. 

This  degree  of  the  stimulus  at  which  its  noticeability 
just  begins,  that  value  of  the  same  which  corresponds  to  the 
zero  point  of  the  sensation,  we  may,  with  Fechner,  name  the 
THRESHOLD  OP  STIMULUS.  It  is  the  lower  border  of  stimulus, 
below  which  there  would  be  no  sensation.  On  the  other  hand 
there  is  also  an  upper  boundary  of  stimulus,  beyond  which 
an  increase  of  sensation  would  be  impossible;  this  may  be 
called  the  SUMMIT  OP  STIMULUS. 

The  sensation  begins  then,  not  with  the  infinitely  small, 
but  with  the  threshold  value  of  the  stimulus,  and  its  growth 
ceases  entirely  at  the  summit  of  the  stimulus.  (See  Fig.  1, 
on  next  page.) 


58 


EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 
(FiG.  1.) 


THE    PSYCHO-PHYSIC   CURVE. 

o  x,  Axis  of  abscissas  of  the  stimulus. 

y  yf,  Axis  of  ordinates  of  the  intensity  of  the  sensation, 
a,  Zero  point  of  the  sensation,  corresponding  to  the  stimulus 
equaling  o  a. 

o  m,  Summit  of  stimulus. 

Near  a,  the  sensation  increases  rapidly  with  the  stimulus;  near 
m,  slowly. 

The  negative  ordinates  to  the  abscissas  from  o  to  1,  signify  stim- 
uli of  which  we  are  not  conscious. 

a  b,  Line  of  proportional  growth,  in  order  to  show  the  deviation. 

o  a,  Measure  of  sensitiveness  to  stimuli. 

If  now  within  the  compass  between  the  threshold  and 
the  summit  of  stimulus,  we  gradually  increase  the  stimulus, 
we  notice  that  not  every  increase  effects  an  increase  of  sen- 
sation; the  increase  of  stimulus  must  reach  a  certain  degree, 
the  threshold  of  distinction,  in  order  to  be  noticeable. 

This  last  is,  however,  not  a  constant  magnitude,  but  is 
dependent  upon  the  degree  of  stimulus,  and  relativity  of 
sensation  already  reached.  The  higher  this  degree  already 
is,  the  larger  must  be  the  addition  to  the  stimulus,  in  order, 
noticeably,  to  increase  the  sensation;  i.  e.,  the  more  removed 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  LAW.  39 

is  the  threshold  of  distinction.  In  short,  one  may  say,  The 
threshold  of  distinction  of  a  stimulus  is  proportional  to  the 
strength  of  the  stimulus. 

This  principle,  originally  empirically  proved  by  Weber, 
and  later  confirmed  and  more  exactly  construed  by  Fechner, 
is  called  THE  PSYCHO-PHYSIC  LAW. 

This  law  has,  within  certain  limits,  been  verified  in  the 
various  departments  of  sense,  as  well  for  intensive  stimuli, 
such  as  oppression,  weights,  temperatures,  height  of  tone, 
strength  of  light,  as  for  extensive  magnitude  of  stimuli.  For 
instance,  the  heavier  a  weight  held  in  the  hand  is,  the  more 

1  must  increase  it,  in  order  to  have  a  noticeable  increase  of 
the  sensation. 

From  the  foregoing  the  following  principles  may  be 
deduced : 

1.  The  threshold  value  of   the  sensation  is  a  constant 
magnitude;  viz. ,  zero;  it  is  the  zero  point  upon  the  scale  of 
sensation. 

2.  The  threshold  value  of  the  stimulus,  or  point  of  per- 
ception is  with  the  same  individual  under  the  same  circum- 
stances a  constant  magnitude,  yet  one  differing  from  zero. 
(Gain  Fig.  1.) 

3.  With  different  individuals  and  under  altered  circum- 
stances,  however,  the  point  of  perception  of   the  stimulus 
varies.     The  sooner  it  is  reached,  i.  e. ,  the  more  the  threshold 
of  stimulus  (o)  approaches  that  of  sensation  (a),  the  greater 
is  the  man's  sensitiveness  to  stimuli.     If,  for  example,  the 
threshold  of  sensation  lies  at  stimulus  1  in  one  person  and  at 

2  in  another,  the  sensitiveness  in  the  first  case  is  double  that 
in  the  second;  i.  e.,  the  sensitiveness  to  stimulus  is  propor- 
tional to  the  reciprocal  of  the  value  of  the  stimulus. 

4.  The  distance  between  points  of  discrimination  in  a 
sensation  is  constant,  because  infinitely  small;  the  distance 
between  points  of  perception  in  the  stimulus  is  changeable; 


40  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

that  is,  in  the  terms  of  the  psycho-physic  law,  is  proportional 
to  the  strength  of  the  stimulus  itself;  in  other  words,  the 
greater  the  stimulus  already  is,  the  more  it  must  grow  in 
order  that  difference  in  sensation  may  be  perceived. 

5.  The  increase  in  the  sensation  is  slower  than  the  in- 
crease in  the  stimulus.  More  exactly,  while  the  strength  of 
the  sensation  increases  only  in  an  arithmetical  ratio  (as,  1,  2, 

3,  4 ),  that  of   the  stimulus  grows  in  a  geometrical 

ratio  (as,  1,  2,  4,  8,  16 ).     This  is  most  clearly  perceived 

in  tones,  where  the  second  octave  above  the  key-note  corre- 
sponds to  the  tone  value  4,  whereas  upon  the  musical  scale  of 
our  sensations  and  upon  the  piano,  which  is  correspondingly 
arranged,  this  tone  appears  to  be  threefold  the  key-note. 

Remark  1. — The  increase  of  sensations  stands  to  that  of  stimuli 
as  logarithms  to  numbers.    While  logarithms  increase  arithmetically: 

1,  2,  3 ,  the  corresponding  numbers  increase  geometrically;  viz., 

10,  100,  1000 In  the  first,  the  constant  difference  is  1;   in  the 

second,  the  constant  quotient  is  10.  Nevertheless,  one  may,  within 
narrow  limits,  posit  the  increase  of  the  logarithms  as  proportional 
to  that  of  the  numbers,  as  actually  happens  in  the  process  of  inter- 
polation. Just  as  for  each  sensation  there  is  a  threshold  value  of 
stimulus  (o  a,  Fig.  1)  which  coincides  with  the  zero  point  of  sensa- 
tion (a,  Fig.  1),  so  in  the  number  series  (1,  2,  3,  4, )  there  is  a 

point  lying  above  zero  which  corresponds  to  the  zero  point  of  the 
logarithm.  This  number  value  is  unity,  for  log  1  =  0.  Since,  there- 
fore, logarithms  and  numbers  show  relations  analogous  to  those  of 
sensations  and  stimuli,  Fechner  proposed  for  the  relation  between 
sensation  and  stimulus  the  following  formula: 

y  =  k  log  /?, 

i.  e.,  the  sensation  (7)  is  not  absolutely  proportional  to  the  magnitude 
of  the  stimulus  (/?),  but  to  the  logarithm  of  the  same.  From  the 
foregoing  formula  follows  through  differentiation, 

d/J 

dr  =  k 

P 
which  is  the  mathematical  expression  for  Weber's  law. 


TWO  CHIEF  CLASSES  OF  SENSATIONS.  41 

Remark  2. — The  fact  of  the  threshold  of  sensation  secures  to  us  a 
certain  physical  insensibility,  and  consequently  a  certain  independ- 
ence of  the  numberless  minute  stimuli  which  constantly  buzz  about 
us,  and  which,  without  this  fact,  would  be  a  source  of  constant  dis- 
comfort. The  distance  between  points  of  discrimination,  on  the  other 
hand,  secures  to  the  sensations  which  appear  in  consciousness  a  cer- 
tain constancy,  since  it  frees  them  from  the  oscillations  of  the  stimuli. 
The  pleasing  impression  of  a  harmonious  piece  of  music  essentially 
depends  upon  the  fact  that  we  do  not  hear  the  minor  deviations  of  the 
tones  from  tune  and  score,  because  they  fall  between  the  points  of 
discrimination.  "Threshold  value,"  and  "points  of  perception  and 
discrimination"  are  expressions  for  sensibility  to  stimuli  and  their 
differences,  and  as  such  are  very  different,  not  only  with  different 
persons,  but  also  from  time  to  time,  according  to  the  measure  of  habit, 
weariness,  practice,  agitation,  depression,  etc. 

Remark  3. — The  law  of  Bernoull,  which  is  more  than  one  hundred 
years  old,  forms  an  interesting  side-piece  to  the  psycho-physic  law. 
It  expresses  the  relation  between  the  objective  worth  (price)  and  the 
subjective  valuation  of  a  piece  of  economic  property  as  follows:  The 
subjective  satisfying  value  of  an  objective  quantity  of  property  is 
inversely  proportional  to  the  amount  of  the  same  goods  which  is 
already  possessed.  The  effect  of  a  dollar  to  a  man  is  smaller  in  pro- 
portion to  the  number  of  dollars  he  already  possesses. 


$  17.  THE  TWO  CHIEF  CLASSES  OF  SENSATION. 

Sensations  are  divided  into  two  main  classes  according 
to  the  nature  of  the  nerve  fibers,  particularly  according  to 
the  manner  of  their  course  and  peripheral  ending,  and  fur- 
ther according  to  the  peculiarity  of  the  object  to  which  the 
content  of  the  sensation  relates.  They  are  the  inner  sen- 
sations, or  those  arising  from  the  body;  and  the  outer  sensa- 
tions, or  those  arising  through  the  senses. 

There  are  sensory  nerves,  which,  without  ending  at  the 
periphery  of  the  body  with  special  apparatus  for  the  percep- 
tion of  the  stimuli  of  sensation,  spread  themselves  all  over 
the  surface  of  the  body  and  its  inner  cavities  in  ever  finer 


43  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

ramifications,  and  almost  exclusively  terminate  in  the  spinal 
cord;  there  are  also  sensory  nerves  whose  peripheral  ends 
terminate  with  peculiar  organs,  intended  for  the  favoring  of 
a  specific  class  of  stimuli,  and  which  mostly,  after  a  short 
course,  terminate  directly  in  the  brain. 

But  the  object  also  to  which  the  sensation  relates  is  dif- 
ferent with  the  two  classes  of  nerves.  The  nerves  which 
bring  about  the  general  sensibility  of  our  body,  and  enable 
us  to  distinguish  it  from  other  objects,  bring  to  consciousness 
only  our  own  bodily  condition,  even  though  the  sensation  be 
caused  by  external  things;  as,  wounds,  and  climatic  or  atmos- 
pheric effects;  the  sense  nerves,  on  the  other  hand,  which 
are  designed  to  bring  about  our  knowledge  of  the  outer  world, 
bring  to  consciousness  external  phenomena,  even  though 
these  nerves  are  stimulated  to  their  function  by  the  action 
of  those  phenomena  upon  sensitive  places  upon  the  body. 

These  two  classes  of  sensation  are  also  distinguished  in 
CONTENT  and  TONE. 

The  content  of  sense-perception  or  sensation,  is  char- 
acterized by  greater  clearness;  the  muscular  sensation  by 
greater  obscurity. 

Sensations  arising  from  the  senses  group  themselves  into 
series  according  to  the  measure  of  their  similarity  and  their 
difference,  whose  members,  especially  with  the  higher  senses, 
form  a  well  ordered  scale.  The  insulated  course  of  the  nerve 
fibers,  as  well  as  the  independence  which  one  excitation  has 
of  another,  favored  by  the  structure  of  the  organs  of  sense, 
makes  the  distinction  possible.  These  organic  arrangements 
are  lacking  for  the  muscular  sensations.  With  them  many 
simultaneous  sensations  become  united  into  a  more  or  less 
obscure  general  impression,  on  account  of  the  even  distribu- 
tion of  stimuli  of  sensation  over  whole  regions  of  sensitive 
body  surface,  as  well  as  on  account  of  the  intimate  reciproc- 
ity between  the  parts  of  the  organism. 


SENSATIONS  OF  THE  BODY.  43 

The  two  chief  classes  of  sensations  are  distinguished  in 
tone  in  the  fact  that  muscular  or  bodily  sensations  mostly 
have  tone,  whereas  the  sensations  arising  from  the  senses  are 
mostly  without  tone,  or  but  slightly  affected  by  it. 

Sensations  from  the  higher  senses  particularly  are,  for 
the  middle  degrees  of  strength,  almost  entirely  without 
tone.  In  the  chemical  senses  of  smell  and  taste  there  is, 
indeed,  a  distinct  marking  of  tone,  wherein  these  perceptions 
approach  the  muscular  sensations. 

Remark. — If  we  conceive  the  tone  of  a  sensation  as  an  expression 
for  its  disturbing  value  in  reference  to  the  totality  of  the  organic  life, 
it  appears  comprehensible  that  the  perceptions  of  sense  are  almost 
without  tone,  for  with  them  the  disturbance  of  the  organic  life 
effected  by  the  nerve  stimulus,  is  reduced  to  a  minimum  on  account 
of  the  greatest  possible  isolation  of  the  nerve  excitation;  whereas  a 
greater  or  less  disturbance  of  the  organic  life  lies  at  the  basis  of  the 
muscular  or  bodily  sensations,  which  are  directly  produced  by  organic 
changes  of  the  body.  The  sensations  freest  from  tone  are  those  of 
the  eye;  the  eye  is,  however,  an  organ  which  has  the  greatest  relative 
independence. 


§  18.  SENSATIONS  OF  THE  BODY. 

Body-sensations  arise  when  the  organic  changes  of  the 
body  which  accompany  the  life  process  or  which  are  excited 
in  the  body  by  external  causes,  are  conveyed  to  the  brain 
and  thereby  brought  to  consciousness.  They  are  especially 
marked  by  tone, — agreeable  in  the  case  of  full  bodily  health, 
painful  where  there  are  physiological  disturbances.  (§  15.) 

The  life  process  is  an  unbroken  series  of  changes  within 
our  body.  Circulation  of  the  blood,  respiration,  digestion, 
and  excretion  bring  about  a  perpetual  change  of  matter 
within  our  bodies.  The  mind  is  made  aware  of  this  process 
by  the  general  body-sensation  of  animal  heat,  of  hunger  or 


44  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

satiety,  of  moisture  or  dryness  (thirst  as  dryness  of  the  pal- 
ate), of  muscular  tension  or  weariness,  of  free  or  labored 
breathing,  etc. 

The  wealth  of  sensations  arising  from  the  body  is 
extraordinarily  great.  It  is  commensurate  with  the  broad 
surface  expansion  of  the  sensitive  nerve  tissue,  and  its  con- 
stant excitation  by  the  never  wholly  pausing  life  process.  It 
is  not  conceivable  that,  with  the  immense  peripheral  develop- 
ment of  the  nerves  of  the  skin,  every  single  impression  should 
be  conveyed  along  an  insulated  track  to  the  brain  and  to  the 
mind;  but  there  must  rather  be  a  uniting  of  the  single  exci- 
tations in  the  larger  nerves  and  in  the  nerve  centers,  where 
the  many  inflowing  nervous  impulses  unite  into  one  great 
stream.  The  momentary  average  of  this  stream  exhibits  the 
general  or  vital  sensation.  The  faculty  of  perceiving  body- 
sensations  may  be  called  the  vital  sense. 

In  vital  sensation,  the  largely  contradictory  content  of 
the  uniting  sensations  is  more  or  less  canceled  by  their  syn- 
thesis, hence  their  characteristic  obscurity.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  predominating  individual  tones  of  the  elementary 
sensations  unite  into  a  strengthened  totality  of  tone,  which 
we  perceive  either  as  physical  enjoyment  of  life  or  as  phys- 
ical discomfort. 

By  means  of  this  life-sensation,  we  have  in  every 
instant  of  our  existence,  not  only  the  consciousness  that  we 
live,  but  also  how  we  (physically)  live,  so  that  this  sensation 
has  not  unfitly  been  called  "the  barometerof  our  life  process," 
or  "the  vital  conscience."  We  have  in  particular  the  sensa- 
tion that  we  maintain  the  equilibrium  of  our  body,  that  we 
digest  and  respire,  that  we  contract  or  relax  the  muscles, 
that  the  blood  circulates  in  us,  etc. 

Vital  sensation  forms  the  obscure  background  upon  which 
single  local  sensations  are  distinguished  in  strength  and  tone, 
yet  they  can  be  but  imperfectly  distinguished;  it  is  not  easy 


SENSATIONS  OF  THE  BODY.  45 

for  us  to  compare  muscular  sensations  after  the  manner  of 
sensations  arising  through  the  senses,  to  arrange  them  in 
series  according  to  graduated  contrasts,  and  to  characterize 
them  by  names  of  exact  significance.  The  metaphorical 
terms,  oppression,  stinging,  burning,  pricking,  etc. ,  by  which 
we  seek  to  characterize  our  muscular  sensations,  are  of  course 
indefinite. 

Muscular  sensations  proper  form  a  specific  class  of  body 
or  organic  sensations.  These  arise  from  muscular  activity 
at  the  peripheral  ends  of  a  sensory  nerve,  by  which  the 
mind  is  made  conscious  not  only  of  the  presence  of  movement, 
but  also  of  its  kind  and  degree,  so  that  in  these  sensations 
we  possess  a  sort  of  muscle  and  force  sense.  (Comp.  §  35.) 

Sensations  arising  from  the  body  have  this  peculiarity, 
that  we  can  not  rid  ourselves  of  them  through  the  removal  of 
their  exciting  cause,  for  this  cause  is  our  own  body.  *)  They 
are  constantly  above  the  threshold  of  consciousness  and  fuse 
with  all  other  mental  states.  Herein  is  seen  their  importance 
in  the  process  of  mental  life,  and  also  the  necessity  of  mak- 
ing ourselves  independent  of  them  by  becoming  physically 
hardened. 

Remark  1. — Even  the  changes  of  those  organs  and  systems  which 
control  the  sympathetic  nerves,  and  which  consequently  are  not  im- 
mediately accessible  to  our  consciousness,  make  themselves  indirectly 
perceptible,  since  the  excitations  of  the  sympathetic  nerves  are  trans- 
ferred to  the  neighboring  off-shoots  of  the  cerebral  nerves.  Thus  the 
excretory  and  digestive  processes  are  at  least  indirectly  placed  under 
the  control  of  consciousness. 

Remark  2. — Muscular  sensation  as  reflex  is  the  opposite  of  reflex 
action.  By  the  latter,  sensation  is  converted  into  motion;  by  the 
former,  however,  motion  is  transferred  into  sensation.  The  first  pro- 
cess takes  place  in  a  center,  the  second  at  the  periphery.  Muscular 

1)  The  anaesthetic  or  sensationless  state  occurs  temporarily  in 
deep  sleep;  it  can,  though  incompletely,  be  produced  by  narcotic 
means,  but  never  without  serious  danger. 


46  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOOY. 

sensations  arc  of  the  greatest  importance,  because  they  adapt  move- 
ments more  and  more  exactly  to  the  ends  designed,  and  subordinate 
tin1  motive  apparatus  of  our  body  completely  to  the  rule  of  the  "Will. 
They  reinforce  the  eflVct ivencss  of  the  sense's,  for  they  mediate  the 
linest  adjustments  of  the  organ  of  sense  used  in  seeing,  especially  of 
the  eye-ball. 


$  19.  SENSATION  ARISING  FROM  THE  SENSES. 

The  peripheral  ends  of  the  sensory  nerves  stand  in 
connection  with  peculiar  and  wonderfully  constructed  con- 
trivances, whose  function  it  is  to  allow  a  particular  class  of 
stimuli  adequately  to  affect  the  sensitive  nerve  ends  to  the 
greatest  possible  exclusion  of  all  other  stimuli.  These  con- 
trivances, which  at  the  same  time  form  the  out-works  of  the 
soul,  are  called  the  organs  of  sense.  The  papillae  of  the 
sense  of  touch,  the  organs  of  tasting  and  smelling,  the  ear  and 
the  eye  belong  here.  The  sensations  arising  from  one  sense 
are  unlike  those  of  every  other  sense  in  kind,  and  are  wholly 
incomparable  with  them;  as,  sound  and  light,  temperature 
and  smell.  Each  sense  has  its  own  peculiar  speech  in  which 
it  answers  to  all  external  stimuli,  even  to  those  which  are 
inappropriate  to  it,  and  not  adapted  to  the  structure  of  its 
organ.  A  blow  upon  the  skin  causes  pain;  upon  the  eye, 
light;  upon  the  ear,  sound.  The  electric  stream  arouses  the 
tongue  to  a  sensation  of  taste,  the  eye  to  one  of  light,  the 
ear  to  one  of  sound.  The  same  sunbeam  which  produces 
light  in  the  eye,  brings  to  the  skin  a  feeling  of  warmth. 

This  peculiarity  of  the  nerves  of  sense  according  to 
which  they  always  respond  in  the  same  way  to  all  stimuli 
which  affect  them,  has  been  called  the  specific  energy  of  the 
senses.  The  ground  of  explanation  for  this  can  evidently 
lie  either  in  the  condition  of  excitation  in  the  sensory  nerve 
fibers,  or  in  the  manner  of  their  peripheral  and  central  ter- 


SENSATION  ARISING  FROM  THE  SENSES.  47 

urinations.  Since  the  state  of  excitation  of  a  nerve  fiber  in 
all  kinds  of  nerves  rests  upon  the  same  principle,  namely, 
upon  a  negative  vibration  of  the  stream  of  nervous  fo^ce 
(§  8),  the  specific  peculiarity  of  a  sensation  can  in  no  wise 
lie  in  the  nerve  fiber  itself.  D  It  is  imparted  to  sense  impres- 
sions, partly  by  means  of  the  peculiar  terminal  structures  in 
which  the  sensory  nerve  branches  out,  partly  by  means  of 
the  conducting  nerves,  which  must  lead  to  the  nerve  centers 
before  consciousness  can  be  reached. 

Under  the  microscope,  these  terminal  structures  of  the 
sensory  nerves  exhibit  a  most  admirable  mechanism,  whose 
purpose  is  to  fit  these  organs  to  the  peculiar  form  of  stimu- 
lus for  which  they  are  adapted.  This  adaptation  is  effected 
by  the  entrance  of  the  terminal  nerve  fibers  into  cells,  whose 
forms  assume  a  various  character  according  to  the  character 
of  the  external  stimulus.  The  cortical  organ  of  the  ear, 
and  the  retina  of  the  eye  are  examples  of  the  terminal  struc- 
tures of  the  sensory  nerves. 

Remark  1. — The  sensory  nerves,  also,  in  this  respect  appear  sim- 
ilar to  telegraph  wires,  with  which  they  have  so  often  been  compared, 
in  so  far  as  it  is  the  same  stronger-or  weaker  electrical  stream  which 
moves  over  the  wire,  and  which,  according  as  it  is  placed  in  connec- 
tion with  this  or  that  terminal  apparatus,  brings  telegrams,  decom- 
poses water,  explodes  mines,  etc.  In  the  same  way,  the  state  of  ex- 
citation of  a  nerve  fiber  may,  according  to  the  different  kinds  of 
apparatus  between  which  the  nerve  extends,  produce  sensations  of 
light  or  heat,  movements  or  gland  discharges. 

Remark  2. — Where  the  external  stinmlus  touches,  not  the  sense 
organ  but  the  sense  nerve,  the  specific  sensation  of  this  sense  is  not 
aroused  in  the  mind.  The  same  degree  of  temperature  which,  affect- 
ing a  nerve  through  the  skin,  would  produce  the  sensation  of  cold, 
does  not  produce  this  sensation,  but  that  of  pain  when  it  affects  the 


1)  In  recent  nerve  physiology,  this  fact  is  called  the  functional 
indifference  of  the  nerves.  It  has  essentially  modified  the  original 
theory  of  "specific  energy"  proposed  by  Johannes  Miiller. 


48  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

nerve  direct.  The  ray  of  light  which,  falling  upon  the  optical  appa- 
ratus, produces  sight,  does  not  produce  sight  when  it  comes  in  direct 
contact  with  the  optic  nerve.  The  optic  nerve  is  blind  at  its  point  of 
entrance  into  the  eye.  This  fact  confirms  the  foregoing  explanation 
of  the  "specific  energy"  of  the  several  sensory  nerves,  for  the  "spe- 
cific energy"  is  explained  as  dependent  upon  the  nature  of  the  organ 
of  sense.  With  the  absence  of  a  specially  constructed  organ  of  sense 
in  the  skin,  there  is  also  lacking  this  "specific  energy,"  for  these 
nerves  react  variously  according  to  the  various  classes  of  stimuli 
(burning,  tickling,  pressing,  pricking,  etc.). 

Remark  3. — The  notion  of  sense  and  the  fivefold  division  of  the 
same  is  by  no  means  so  final  as  we  are  perhaps  inclined  to  assume. 
If  to  a  given  sense  a  special  organ  belongs,  the  sense  of  touch  is 
already  placed  in  question,  unless  we  regard  the  papillae  as  such  an 
organ.  On  the  other  hand,  one  might  feel  bound  to  assume  a  series 
of  other  senses  coordinated  to  the  sense  of  touch;  as,  for  example,  a 
muscular  sense,  a  respiratory  sense,  a  digestive  sense,  etc.  These 
groups  of  sensations  have  been  classed  with  those  arising  from  the 
body,  without  having  been  accorded  the  dignity  of  independent  senses. 
It  is  essential,  further,  that  the  apparatus  of  sensation  have  a  specific 
energy  and  that  there  be  a  certain  isolation  of  the  stimuli,  in  order 
that  the  sensation  be  distinguished  from  the  broad  stream  of  general 
but  obscure  vital  sensations,  which  is  not  always  the  case  with  mus- 
cular sensations,  and  those  of  respiration  and  digestion.  (Dutten- 
hofer:  "The  eight  senses  of  man,"  four  of  which  are  ascribed  to  the 
head,  and  four  to  the  body,  the  latter  being  sense  of  the  skin,  sense  of 
touch,  sympathetic  sense,  and  genital  ser-se.)  We  speak  finally  of  a 
sense  of  time,  of  space,  of  form,  of  number;  but  this  is  only  in  a 
secondary,  or  derived  significance;  for  the  conceptions  of  time,  space, 
etc.,  belong,  not  to  original  but  to  derived  mental  states. 


§  20.  SEXSE  OF  TOUCH. 

We  ascribe  to  the  sense  of  touch  those  sensations  which 
arise  from  the  contact  of  the  skin  with  foreign  bodies,  pro- 
vided the  sensation  does  not  rise  to  pain  through  excess  of 
stimulation.  A  foreign  body  produces  its  effect  through 
pressure,  which  brings  about  a  molecular  change  in  the  skin 
covering,  or  the  organ  of  touch.  Change  of  temperature  oper- 


SENSE  OF  TOUCH.  49 

ates  in  a  manner  similar  to  external  pressure;  for  the  increase 
or  decrease  of  warmth  which  penetrates  the  skin  causes 
extensions  and  contractions  of  the  skin,  which  are  not  unlike 
the  results  of  mechanical  pressure.  The  specific  energy  of 
touch,  by  which  it  is  distinguished  from  sensations  originat- 
ing in  the  body,  consists  in  reaction  against  the  molecular 
changes  of  the  minutest  parts  of  the  skin,  produced  by  pres- 
sure and  temperature,  thereby  bringing  to  consciousness  the 
differences  between  hard  and  soft,  fluid  and  solid,  smooth 
and  rough,  dry  and  moist,  heavy  and  light,  cold  and  warm, 
and  all  their  manifold  degrees. 

The  passive  state  of  being  touched  must  be  distinguished 
from  active  touching,  in  which  the  muscular  sensation  assists 
(§  18),  since  we  exercise  a  certain  resistance  to  the  external 
pressure.1^  This  is  increased  when  the  organs  of  touch  (in 
most  cases  the  tips  of  the  fingers)  move  along  over  the  sur- 
face of  the  object  to  be  touched. 

The  content  of  the  sensation  of  touch  is  not  alone  con- 
ditioned by  the  touching  object,  but  also  by  the  place  of 
contact  upon  the  skin.  The  same  contact  produces  a  differ- 
ent sensation  according,  'e.  g. ,  as  exerted  upon  the  right  or 
the  left  arm.  A  needle  prick  on  the  toe  is,  even  with  closed 
eyes,  distinguished  from  one  on  the  back.  This  distinction 
would  be  impossible,  were  the  sensations  identical  as  regards 
their  content. 

In  the  content  of  the  sensation  of  touch,  therefore,  there 
lies  not  only  an  indication  of  the  object  of  contact,  but  also 
of  the  place  of  contact.  The  latter  indication,  which  puts 


1)  How  greatly  sensitiveness  of  touch  is  increased  by  active 
touching  has  been  numerically  established  by  Weber  in  his  interest- 
ing experiments  with  the  smallest  weights  which  we  can  distinguish 
by  means  of  the  hand.  In  the  case  of  passive  touch,  where  weights 
press  upon  the  hand  when  resting  upon  the  table,  the  increase  of 
weight  must  be  nearly  half  that  already  resting  upon  the  hand  in 
order  to  be  perceived;  in  active  touch  where  the  weight  is  held  freely 
in  the  hand,  an  increase  of  one-seventh  was  noted. 


50  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

us  in  condition  to  refer  every  impression  of  touch  to  a  par- 
ticular location  on  the  skin,  we  call  the  local  sign  of  the  sen- 
sation. Since  the  whole  sensitive  surface  on  account  of  con- 
stant contact  with  clothing,  air,  temperature,  is  constantly 
in  a  certain  state  of  excitation,  and  since  each  excitation 
brings  its  local  sign  with  it,  we  obtain  through  the  sense  of 
touch  a  cognition  of  the  geometrical  boundary  of  our  body, 
whereby  the  sense  of  touch  becomes  a  sense  of  location. 

The  delicacy  of  the  sense  of  touch  is  manifested  in  the 
ability  to  distinguish  places  on  the  skin  lying  in  close  juxta- 
position by  means  of  the  local  signs  of  their  sensations  of 
touch,  and  to  hold  them  in  consciousness  as  sundered.  This 
delicacy  varies  greatly  with  the  different  regions  of  the  body 
surface.  For  every  portion  there  is  a  smallest  distance 
within  which  two  neighboring  impressions  of  touch  can  no 
longer  be  distinguished,  but  fuse  into  a  single  sensation. 
This  smallest  distance  is  measured  by  the  distance  between 
the  two  blunted  points  of  a  compass  placed  upon  the  skin, 
and  is  in  inverse  proportion  to  the  delicacy  of  the  sense  of 
localization.  According  to  Weber's  exact  measurements,  it 
amounts  to  one  millimeter  for  the  most  sensitive  parts  of  the 
skin;  namely,  upon  the  tip  of  the  tongue  and  the  tips  of  the 
fingers,  while  for  the  middle  of  the  back  it  amounts  to  sixty- 
eight  millimeters,  so  that  this  part  of  the  body  is  only  one 
sixty-eighth  as  sensitive  as  the  tip  of  the  tongue.  He  explains 
this  phenomenon  by  saying  that  all  places  upon  the  skin 
within  whose  compass  the  two  points  give  but  a  single  sen- 
sation, are  subordinated  to  one  and  the  same  primitive  nerve 
fiber. 

Remark  1.  The  local  sign  for  touch  seems  to  He  in  the  accompany- 
ing sensations,  which  appear  to  have  their  ground  in  the  extension  of 
the  stimulus  beyond  the  point  of  immediate  contact,  that  is,  in  an 
irradiation  of  the  physical  excitation.  The  character  of  this  accom- 
panying sensation  varies  in  the  different  parts  of  the  body  according 


THE  CHEMICAL  SENSES.  51 

to  the  structure  supporting  the  skin,  and  according  to  the  surround- 
ing wealth  of  nerves.  The  difference  in  the  structure  of  the  organs 
of  touch  becomes  of  essential  importance  to  delicacy  of  touch,  since 
by  change  in  structure,  in  support,  etc.,  they  favor  the  manifoldness 
of  accompanying  sensations.  (Significance  of  the  nails  as  backing, 
or  support,  for  the  finger  tips,  as  well  as  their  irregular  arching,  for 
delicacy  of  touch.) 

Remark  2. — The  hand,  many  membered,  highly  movable,  and  fur- 
nished with  the  most  delicate  sensory  nerves,  may  be  regarded  as  the 
real  organ  of  touch.  The  finger  tips  are  the  eyes  of  touch,  which 
with  the  blind  actually  take  the  place  of  the  real  eye.  The  sensi- 
tiveness of  touch  is  transferred  from  the  hand  to  the  instrument  with 
which  we  touch  external  objects.  Think  in  this  connection  of  the 
staff  of  the  blind  man.  The  use  of  knife  and  fork,  of  knitting  and 
darning  needles,  of  the  probe  in  surgery,  the  guiding  of  the  pen  in 
writing,  the  pencil  in  painting,  etc.,  rest  essentially  upon  the  resist- 
ance which  these  tools  experience  at  their  outer  ends  from  the  exter- 
nal things,  and  which  is  communicated  to  the  hand  through  the  elas- 
ticity of  the  instrument.  When  we  walk,  the  soles  of  our  feet  touch, 
even  through  the  shoes. 


I  21.  THE  CHEMICAL  SENSES. 

The  specific  energy  of  taste  and  smell  comprises  that 
department  of  chemical  reaction  in  which  these  senses  are 
divided  in  accordance  with  the  subdivisions,  liquid  and  gas. 

The  chemical  senses  are  distinguished  from  touch,  which 
is  in  the  main  a  mechanical  sense,  in  that  the  general  cover- 
ing of  the  body  passes  over  into  the  organs  of  these  senses, 
that  is,  into  a  mucous  membrane  in  the  cavities  of  mouth  and 
nose.  The  mucous  membrane  of  the  mouth,  favored  by  the 
discharge  of  the  salivary  glands,  dissolves  substances  which 
may  be  tasted,  and  thus  makes  their  chemical  action  upon 
the  ends  of  the  nerves  possible. 

Both  taste  and  smell  operate  as  practical  senses,  since 
taste  stands  in  immediate  relation  to  eating,  and  smell,  to 


52  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

breathing.  Both  are  accompanied  by  muscular  and  touch 
sensations,  and,  like  these,  are  characterized  by  indistinctness 
of  content,  and  by  lack  of  vigor  in  tone. 

The  part  that  these  two  senses  contribute  to  our  theo- 
retical knowledge  is  so  small,  that  our  perception  of  the 
world  would  lose  little  in  distinctness  or  coloring  should  the 
impressions  given  by  taste  and  smell  be  dropped  out  of  it. 
Since,  then,  these  senses  serve  the  economy  of  animal  life 
more  than  they  do  a  knowledge  of  the  external  world,  we 
need  not  be  surprised  to  find  them  in  part  more  keenly,  if 
less  symmetrically,  developed  in  the  animal  world  than  in 
man.  For  this  reason  they  are  called  the  lower  senses. 

The  sensations  arising  from  these  senses  manifest  a  vari- 
ety of  qualitative  differences,  to  which,  however,  something 
individual  and  subjective  always  clings,  so  that  we  are  not  able 
to  arrange  them  in  a  graduated  scale.  There  can  be  no  dis- 
pute about  taste,  and  smells  are  characterized  by  their  man- 
ifold peculiarities.  To  seek  to  construct  a  prismatic  color- 
spectrum  from  sweet,  sour,  bitter,  salt — or  a  musical  scale 
from  smells,  must  always  remain  a  vain  attempt.  And  for 
a  conception  of  the  outer  world  as  regards  space  and  time, 
these  senses  assist  but  little;  for,  on  account  of  the  exten- 
sion of  the  outer  stimulus  over  a  great  number  of  nerve 
fibers,  the  sensation,  though  having  a  certain  breadth  of  im- 
pression analogous  to  temperature,  by  no  means  furnishes  a 
separation  of  the  manifold  according  to  space  and  time. 

Remark  1.  The  sensations  of  taste  are  capable  of  great  cultiva- 
tion (gormandizing);  and  those  of  smell,  of  great  strength  or  acute- 
ness.  Both  depend  upon  the  divisibility  of  matter.  The  appearance 
of  an  effect  at  a  distance  arises,  in  the  case  of  smell,  from  the  fact 
that  the  volatile  elements  of  odorous  matter  spread  out  through  the 
atmosphere.  That  which  supplies  these  senses  has  something  really 
material  about  it,  for  a  consumption  of  the  object  takes  place  in  each 
case,  though  only  in  homeopathic  amounts  in  that  of  smell.  Taste 
is  in  this  respect  much  more  effective  than  smell.  Both  senses  are 


HEARING.  53 

mediators  of  the  agreeable  and  the  disagreeable,  but  by  no  means 
interpreters  of  the  beautiful  or  the  ugly.  The  grosser  sensuality  of 
man  prefers,  therefore,  to  act  upon  these  senses,  and  men  seek  to 
heighten  the  effect  by  eating  and  drinking,  smoking  and  taking  snuff. 
The  cooking  art  studies  the  sense  of  taste,  but  purely  in  an  empirical 
way;  there  is  not  a  single  universally  accepted  principle  in  thisdepart- 
ment,  and  the  art  is  compelled  to  make  the  greatest  concessions  to 
subjective  preference  and  traditional  custom.  There  is  no  aesthetics 
of  the  art  of  cooking.  Just  as  the  sensory  nerves  of  taste  and  smell 
are  not  easy  to  separate  from  nerves  of  touch,  and  the  physiologists 
contend  as  to  whether  there  are  any  specific  nerves  of  taste,  so  the 
sensations  from  these  senses  are  so  modified  by  those  of  touch,  of 
temperature,  and  of  the  body,  that  it  is  difficult  to  determine  their  pure 
quality, — a  subjective  somewhat  always  clings  to  them. 

Remark  2.  The  well-known  biologist,  Gustav  Jaeger,  has  recently 
felt  himself  obliged  to  ascribe  to  the  sense  of  smell  an  extensive  role 
in  the  economy  of  life.  According  to  him,  there  is  a  specific  odor 
which  spreads  through  the  air,  not  only  for  whole  classes  of  animals 
but  also  for  every  individual,  by  which  their  sympathies  and  antipa- 
thies are  determined,  and  their  instincts  as  to  food  and  reproduction 
are  guided.  When  this  same  writer  in  his  work,  "The  Discovery  of 
the  Soul,"  goes  so  far  as  to  try  to  prove  that  the  seat  and  essence  of 
the  soul  (!)  are  found  in  certain  materials  of  smell,  this  "discovery" 
is  hardly  to  be  taken  in  earnest. 


§  22.   HEARING. 

The  specific  energy  with  which  the  nerve  of  hearing 
answers  to  external  stimuli  is  sound,  although  by  this  term 
is  also  meant,  not  alone  the  sound  sensation  (analogous  to 
"heat  and  light"),  but  also  the  objective  cause  of  the  same. 

The  adequate  form  of  stimulus  for  the  sense  of  hearing 
is  found  in  the  rapid,  periodical  motions  of  the  minutest  parts 
of  an  elastic  sound-producing  body,  which  are,  as  a  rule, 
transmitted  through  the  air  in  the  form  of  waves,  until  they 
reach  our  ear. 


B4  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

A  periodical  movement  is  one  in  which  that  which  is 
moved  returns  to  the  same  phase  of  motion  at  exactly  equal 
time  intervals.  If  this  motion  is  slow,  it  may  be  followed 
by  sight  or  touch,  as  in  the  case  of  the  pendulum,  the 
vibrating  cord  or  bell.  If  it  is  too  fast,  these  senses  may 
recognize  the  presence,  but  not  the  individual  elements  of 
the  movement;  as,  for  instance,  the  diminishing  vibrations 
of  a  sounding  string  by  the  eye,  or  the  vibrations  of  a  sound- 
ing board  by  the  hand.  Nature  has  given  us  in  hearing  a 
special  sense,  by  which  we  are  enabled  to  distinguish  with 
wonderful  exactness  the  three  constituting  characteristics  of 
the  one  element  of  this  motion. 

The  three  characteristics  by  which  this  one  element  of 
periodical  motion,  viz. ,  the  vibration  or  oscillation  is  marked, 
are  as  follows: 

1.  The  duration  of  the  period,  or  of  the  time  interval, 
between  two  successive  and  precisely  similar  phases  of  move- 
ment of  the  vibrating  atom.      This  duration  conditions  the 
frequence  of  vibration,   which   is    objectively  measured  by 
the  number  of   vibrations  to  the  second,   but  subjectively, 
on  the  other  hand,  through  the  specific  energy  of  the  sense  of 
hearing,  and  is  brought  to  our  consciousness  as  height,  or 
pitch,  of  tone. 

2.  The  amplitude  of  vibration,  or  the  greatest  remove 
of  the  vibrating  parts  from  the  position  of  rest.     This  is  sub- 
jectively recognized  as  strength,  or  intensity  of  tone. 

3.  The  form  of  vibration,  or  the  manner  in  which  the 
motion,  having  the  same  duration  and  amplitude  of  vibra- 
tion, is,  within  a   period,  transmitted  (in  a  straight   line, 
in  a  circle,  in  an  ellipse,  etc.).     The  peculiarity  of   form  of 
vibration   is   subjectively  noticeable   in  the  timbre  or  tone- 
color,  by  means  of  which  two  equally  high  and  equally  intense 
tones  may  yet  for  our  ear  be  sharply  distinguished  from  each 
other. 


HEARING.  55 

In  hearing,  we  perceive  either  noises  or  musical  sounds. 
The  first  are  irregular,  the  latter  regular  combinations  of 
the  elements  of  a  periodical  motion.  The  simple  sound  pro- 
duced by  vibrations  with  precisely  similar  periods,  is  tone. 
The  combination  of  several  single  tones,  the  number  of  whose 
vibrations  are  all  small  multiples  of  a  ground  tone  funda- 
mental to  them,  and  which,  therefore,  so  completely  fuse 
with  one  another,  that  they  unite  for  our  ear  into  a  single 
total  sensation  of  a  determined  quality,  produces  the  musical 
sound.  The  elements  of  a  musical  sound  are  called  partial 
tones;  the  main  tone  is  called  the  ground  tone,  and  the 
higher  tones,  its  overtones.  The  notes  of  musical  instruments 
are  not  tones  in  this  scientific  sense,  but  musical  sounds. 

Hearing  is  an  analyzing  sense,  in  so  far  as  it  is  able  to 
resolve  a  mass  of  compounded  musical  sounds  into  their  indi- 
vidual component  parts,  as  Helmholtz,  in  particular,  has  proved 
from  the  mechanics  of  auxiliary  tones  by  the  application  of 
instruments  of  resonance  exactly  graded  in  pitch. 

Remark. — The  ear  consists  of  a  finely  arranged  system  of  dimin- 
utive parts: — the  tympanum,  the  chain  of  minute  bones,  the  liquid  of 
the  labyrinth,  the  various  parts  of  the  cochlea.  These  have  the  func- 
tion of  transmitting  the  oscillations  produced  by  the  sound-origin- 
ating body  and  transmitted  through  the  air  to  the  peripheral  ramifica- 
tions of  the  auditory  nerve  in  the  labyrinth,  by  means  of  correspond- 
ing vibrations.  The  auditory  canal  which  terminates  the  outer  ear 
transmits  chiefly  only  those  vibrations  whose  amplitude  is  parallel  to 
the  direction  of  its  length,  and  which  therefore  stand  perpendicular 
to  the  tympanum,  thus  setting  this  as  well  as  the  connected  system 
of  bones,  and  mediately  the  elements  of  the  labyrinth,  into  corre- 
sponding stronger  or  weaker  vibrations  according  to  the  magnitude  of 
the  amplitude.  Herein  is  explained  loudness,  or  intensity  of  sound. 
The  height  of  the  tone  is  conditioned  by  the  frequence  of  vibration, 
which  falls  upon  the  mind  immediately  as  a  time  determination.  To 
have  explained  timbre  or  tone-color  objectively  through  the  form  of 
the  vibrations,  and  subjectively  through  the  physiological  structure 
of  the  ear,  is  a  merit  of  recent  investigations  concerning  this  sub- 


56  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

ject,  with  which  we  associate  the  names,  G.  S.  Ohm,  Fourier,  Wag- 
ner, and  others,  but  especially  the  name  of  II.  Helmholtz.  (Hclm- 
holtz's  classical  writing,  "Doctrine  of  Tone  Sensations,"  2nd  edition, 
1865.)  According  to  this  we  obtain  a  perception  of  timbre,  in 
that  the  ear,  even  with  compound  sounds,  separates  the  period- 
ical movement  of  the  mass  of  air  in  the  auditory  cavities,  which 
proceeds  in  a  single  direction,  into  a  sum  of  pendulum-like  vibra- 
tions, just  as  this  division  by  means  of  a  mathematical  fiction  is 
carried  out  in  our  understanding;  and  in  that  these  simple  vibrations 
are  brought  to  our  consciousness  as  simultaneous  partial  tones  of  the 
sound.  This  explanation  presupposes  that  the  ear  is  capable  of  con- 
veying to  consciousness  different  tones  as  simultaneous  and  yet  dis- 
tinct from  one  another.  Whereas  it  was  formerly  assumed  that  all 
primitive  nerve  fibers  were  always  in  the  same  state  of  excitation, 
the  investigations  of  Helmholtz  have  led  to  the  assumption  that  the 
sensations  of  tones  of  different  pitch  are  associated  with  the  excita- 
tion of  different  primitive  nerve  fibers.  This  excitation  is  effected 
by  means  of  microscopic  cortical  fibers  lying  upon  the  walls  of  the 
cochlea,  whose  pitch  is  different  and  responds  to  a  regular  series 
through  the  musical  scale.  The  ends  of  the  auditory  nerve  are  con- 
nected with  these  fibers.  Just  as  when  one  causes  a  heavy  sound  to 
resound  against  the  sounding-board  of  a  piano,  all  the  wires  whose 
tones  answer  to  the  partial  tones  of  the  first  sound,  and  only  these, 
are  set  to  vibrating,  so  only  those  fibers  of  the  cortical  fiber-piano  are 
set  to  vibrating  by  sound  conducted  to  the  ear,  whose  pitch  corre- 
sponds to  the  partial  tones  of  the  sound.  The  view  of  Herbart,  that 
probably  to  every  musical  tone  a  part  of  the  organ  of  hearing  corre- 
sponds, since  simultaneous  tones  remain  sundered  in  consciousness, 
finds  support  by  this  discovery.  This  view  is  sustained  by  J.  Muller, 
Oersted,  and  Fechner.  Just  as  the  partial  tones  of  a  musical  sound 
are  held  apart  by  the  mind,  so  are  the  tones  of  an  accord,  only  much 
easier.  Most  easily  we  distinguish  the  simultaneous  sounds  from 
different  sources  (musical  instruments  or  human  voices),  because  they 
are  particularly  characterized  by  the  noises  which  accompany  them. 


\  23.    SEEING. 

The  specific  energy  by  means  of  which  the  sense  of  sight 
answers  to  external  stimuli  is  light,  although  this  term  is 


SEEING.  57 

applied  not  only  to  the  sensation  of  seeing  but  to  the  objec- 
tive cause  of  the  same. 

The  adequate  form  of  stimulus  here,  as  with  hearing,  is 
the  vibration,  but  of  shorter  amplitude  and  much  greater 
speed  than  is  the  case  with  sound. 

These  vibrations  belong  not  to  ponderable  but  to  impon- 
derable bodies,  to  a  supposed  gaseous  substance  called  ether. 
They  are  perpendicular  to  the  radiating  direction  of  the  light, 
i.  e.,  to  the  ray  of  light,  and  thus  transverse;  whereas  the 
vibrations  of  the  medium  of  sound  proceed  in  the  direction 
of  the  sound-ray;  i.  e.,  longitudinally. 

These  vibrations  also  may  be  distinguished  by  the  three 
determining  characteristics,  duration  of  vibration,  amplitude, 
and  vibratory  form,  just  as  in  the  vibrations  of  sound  (?  22); 
but  the  relation  of  these  three  factors  to  the  sensation  of 
light,  is  partly  out  of  analogy  with  the  relations  which  we 
have  learned  regarding  sound. 

That  which  we  can  distinguish  in  a  sensation  of  light  is 
not  a  threefold,  as  with  sound,  but  only  a  twofold;  it  is  light 
intensity,  which  corresponds  to  intensity  of  sound  and  depends 
upon  the  amplitude,  and  color,  which  corresponds  to  height 
of  tone  only  in  its  physical  origin,  and  depends  upon  the 
duration  of  vibration  (frequence  of  vibration  and  length  of 
wave),  whereas  in  its  subjective  aspect  it  is  to  be  placed  par- 
allel, not  to  the  height  of  tone,  but  to  the  verbally  related 
tone-color,  or  timbre;  i.  e. ,  to  the  peculiarity  of  sound.  Phys- 
ically, color  depends  upon  the  refrangibility  of  light,  which 
is  again  conditioned  by  the  length  of  wave  and  the  duration 
of  vibration,  as  is  proved  by  the  dispersion  of  white  light  and 
into  the  prismatic  colors,  red,  orange,  yellow,  green,  blue, 
indigo,  and  violet,  so  that  the  red  rays  have  the  least 
refrangibility,  and  the  violet  the  greatest.  The  color  spec- 
trum corresponds,  therefore,  to  the  scale  of  the  piano.  But 
although  the  different  pitches  announce  themselves  subject- 


58  EMPIRICAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 

ively  even  to  the  unmusical  ear,  so  that  the  higher  notes  are 
recognized  as  such,  and  the  mounting  of  the  pitch  and  that  of 
the  sensation  is  in  accordance  with  psycho-physical  laws,  yet 
there  is  nothing  in  the  sensation  of  color  which  indicates  any 
augmentation  in  the  occasioning  stimulus,  and  we  should  not 
suspect  that  red  is  the  lowest  and  violet  the  highest  color- 
tone,  did  not  the  physicist  establish  this  relation  for  us  as 
the  result  of  an  exact  investigation. 

The  simple  or  homogeneous  colors  are  distinguished 
from  mixed  colors.  The  less  white  there  is  in  color,  the  more 
homogeneous  it  is.  White  itself  in  all  its  decreasing  grada- 
tions in  intensity  down  to  black  may  be  regarded  as  the  low- 
est degree  of  homogeneousness  in  a  color.  The  most  homo- 
geneous are  the  spectrum  (rainbow)  colors;  all  other  colors 
seen  through  colored  glasses,  or  obtained  by  the  use  of  pig- 
ments, are  not  completely  homogeneous. 

Red  and  violet,  which  stand  at  the  extremes  of  the  spec- 
trum (i.  e.,  of  the  prismatic  chart,  also  of  the  rainbow),  pro- 
duce purple  when  mixed,  and  are  related  to  each  other  like 
two  adjacent  colors  of  the  spectrum,  as,  for  instance,  red 
and  orange. 

The  color  series  is,  therefore,  not  straight  like  the  musi- 
cal scale,  but  forms  a  line  whose  end  always  approaches  its 
beginning;  that  is,  as  respects  purple,  a  closed  curve  or, 
more  simply,  a  color-circle. 

Since  the  various  colors  in  the  spectrum  have  an  unequal 
extension,  there  is  in  the  color-circle  an  unequal  arc  and  spec- 
trum surface  corresponding  to  them.  This  is  determined 
by  the  greatest  number  of  noticeable  gradations  which  can 
be  distinguished  in  each  color;  this  number  is  greatest  in 
yellow  and  blue,  and  smallest  in  red  and  violet. 

Among  the  simple  colors,  there  are  a  few  noticeable  on 
account  of  their  independent  character,  whereas  the  others 
are  perceived  as  stages  of  transition  between  these.  The 


SEEING.  59 

first  are  called  primary  colors,  of  which  there  are  three — red, 
yellow,  and  blue.     The  others  are  called  secondary  colors. 

The  eye  is  not  able  to  distinguish  whether  any  given 
color  is  homogeneous  or  mixed.  The  sensation  of  light  is 
always  qualitatively  simple.  The  eye  is  not  able  to  make  an 
analysis  of  it,  as  we  have  found  the  ear  able  to  do  in  the  case 
of  the  sensation  of  sound. 

Remark  1. — The  eye,  which  is  relatively  the  most  independent 
part  of  the  human  body,  is  an  active,  dioptrical  apparatus,  not  unlike 
a  camera  obscura.  It  consists  of  a  succession  of  substances,  mostly 
transparent,  which,  in  accordance  with  their  various  curvatures, 
represent  a  system  of  optical  lenses  of  most  exact  focus.  In  the  back- 
ground of  the  eye,  where  the  so-called  blind  spot  is  found,  the  optic 
nerve  enters  the  eye  ball,  and  spreads  out  into  the  retina,  whose  mosaic- 
like  structure  is  adapted  to  allow  an  adequate  attack  upon  the  optic 
nerve  by  the  ray  of  light,  which,  entering  through  the  pupil,  has 
passed  through  the  refracting  media  of  the  eye, — the  cornea,  the 
aqueous  humor,  the  lens,  and  the  vitreous  humor.  In  distinct  and 
normal  vision  all  rays  of  light  which  enter  the  eye  from  a  point  of 
a  visible  object  unite  in  a  point  upon  the  retina,  so  that  the  parts  of 
the  object  are  projected  upon  the  retina  in  an  exceedingly  minute 
image.  Since  the  rays  of  light  from  different  points  cross  at  the 
focus  before  they  reach  the  retina,  the  picture  upon  the  retina  is  an 
inverted  one.  The  nature  of  the  attack  of  the  rays  of  light  upon 
the  mosaic  structure  of  the  retina  can  not,  in  the  present  state  of 
nerve-physics,  be  decided  with  certainty.  Fechner's  hypothesis  is, 
that  the  nerve  activity  which  is  resolved  by  the  light  and  sound  stim- 
ulus, upon  which  the  sensation  of  light  and  sound  functionally  depends, 
not  less  than  the  stimulus  itself,  is  to  be  thought  of  under  the  form 
of  vibratory  movements  (Psycho-Physics,  II.,  p.  282).  In  regard  to 
the  sensation  of  color,  Tho.  Young  has  proposed  the  hypothesis,  that 
there  are  in  the  eye  three  kinds  of  nerve  fibers,  to  each  of  which  is 
ascribed  a  different  kind  of  sensation;  viz.,  sensory  nerves  for  red, 
for  green,  for  violet.  This  theory,  somewhat  in  analogy  with  the 
accepted  theory  of  sound,  has  recently  been  supported  by  Helmholtz 
(Doctrine  of  Sound-Sensation,  p.  221).  Fechner  assumes,  in  oppo- 
sition to  this  view,  that  all  colors  of  the  spectrum  can  be  perceived 
by  every  optical  nerve-fiber,  the  consequence  of  which  is,  that  when 
different  simple  optical  colors  penetrate  the  same  optic  nerve-fiber, 


60  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

they,  on  account  of  Interference,  unite  In  a  single  middle  state  of  vibra- 
tion, whose  sensation  is  completely  analogous  to  that  of  a  simple  color.  1) 

Remark  2. — Over  against  the  many  analogies  between  sound  and 
light,  we  find  significant  deviations.  Besides  those  already  mentioned 
are  the  following:  The  color-scale  [ranging  for  visible  light  between 
the  limits  of  481  mill  ion  (red),  and  764  million  vibrations  per  second  (vio- 
let)] comprises,  according  to  Helmholtz,  about  an  octave  and  a  quarter, 
whereas  the  musical  scale  comprises  a  whole  series  of  octaves.  Even 
without  any  external  light-stimulus,  we  have  a  positive  light  sensa- 
tion, that  of  the  black  field  of  vision,  whereas  we  have  no  sound-sen- 
sation without  sound  stimulus.  Black  is,  therefore,  not  analogous  with 
silence.  There  are  complementary  colors,  but  not  complementary 
tones.  The  peculiarity  of  coloring  is  so  altered  by  the  strength  of 
the  illumination,  that  certain  colors  approach  white  if  the  intensity 
of  the  light  is  greatly  increased,  etc.  (Compare  Fechner's  Psycho- 
Physics,  II.,  chapter  33,  C.) 

Remark  3. — Under  the  microscope,  the  retina  appears  as  a  highly 
complex,  wonderfully  arranged  structure.  It  consists  of  no  less  than 
ten  different  layers,  the  next  to  the  last  being  the  bacillar  layer,  com- 
posed of  closely  packed  perpendicular  rods,  and  covered  by  a  layer  of 
pigment-cells.  Only  this  is  sensitive  to  the  light.  According  to  the 
most  recent  investigations  this  excitation  is  photo-chemical;  the 
light  stimulus  is  transformed  into  chemical  action  before  it  attacks 
this  layer  of  the  retina,  and  the  picture  on  the  retina  is,  accordingly, 
chemically  produced  like  that  upon  the  photographic  plate. 

Remark  4. — The  theory  of  vision,  lying  on  the  borders  of  three 
sciences  (physics,  physiology,  and  psychology)  forms  a  subject  which 


1)  Not  without  reason  does  Fechner  assume  that  we  by  no  means 
have  the  sensation  of  a  simple  color  as  it  corresponds  to  the  ether 
oscillations  of  simple  periodicity,  and  that  every  optic  nerve-fiber 
under  the  influence  of  even  the  simplest  color  stimulus  effects  a  union 
of  vibrations.  (Psycho-Physics,  II.,  p.  301.)  That  which  we  call 
homogeneous  light  would  be  consequently  one  which  produces  rela- 
tively the  simplest  subjective  color-mixture.  The  fact  of  comple- 
mentary colors  speaks  for  the  correctness  of  this  view.  The  explana- 
tion of  color  sensation  by  Young  and  Helmholtz  is  in  contradiction 
to  the  fact  that  the  objective  homogeneous  illumination  of  the 
whole  field  of  vision  answers  also  to  a  subjective  homogeneous  sensa- 
tion, that  therefore  the  local  distribution  of  the  three  kinds  of  sen- 
sory nerve-fibers  of  the  retina  is  in  no  wise  subjectively  announced. 
This  objection  was  proposed  by  C.  Bohn,  in  1865. 


SEEING.  61 

has  been  handled  with  great  scientific  energy.  The  most  important 
points,  regarding  which  reference  must  be  made  to  physics  and  phys- 
iology, are  especially  the  following; — The  eye,  which  is  mediate  and 
in  accordance  with  a  scheme  or  plan — the  doctrine  of  the  accommo- 
dation of  the  eye — the  topography  of  the  retina  according  to  merid- 
ians and  the  theory  of  identical  retinal  points — double  and  single 
vision  and  the  theory  of  the  horopter — the  relation  between  light 
and  color — subjective  colors  and  optical  illusions — the  movements  of 
the  eye.  Of  these  points,  only  the  question  of  erect  and  simple  vis- 
ion demands  mention.  Why,  notwithstanding  the  inverted  picture 
upon  the  retina,  we  see  objects  upright,  is  a  question  which  may  be 
disposed  of  by  the  remark,  that  the  arrangement  of  the  points  of  the 
retina  is  in  itself  not  a  ground  for  the  mind's  perception  of  space, 
and  that,  even  if  it  were,  it  would  be  valid  only  for  the  relative  posi- 
tion of  the  stimuli  among  themselves,  but  in  no  way  for  their  posi- 
tion in  space.  Since,  however,  as  will  be  shown  later,  muscular  sen- 
sations are  chiefly  concerned  in  giving  the  eye  its  first  experience  in 
space,  the  eye  having  to  sink  in  order  to  bring  a  lower  retinal  point 
to  the  place  of  distance  vision  (the  center  of  the  retina),  it  is  clear 
that  the  report  of  the  muscular  sensation  regarding  above  and  below 
corresponds  to  actual  conditions  in  space. 

Single  vision  with  the  two  eyes  is  a  question  which,  on  the  whole,, 
needs  an  explanation,  because  it  occurs  under  some  circumstances, 
but  does  not  under  others.  Simple  vision  with  the  two  eyes  will,  in 
general,  take  place  when  the  images  from  the  same  point  of  space 
fall  identically  upon  the  retinas;  L  e.,  upon  such  points  as  correspond  to 
each  other  upon  the  two  retinas.  The  identical  places  upon  the  two 
retinal  spheroids  lie  in  such  a  way  that  they  have  the  same  latitude  and 
longitude,  provided  one  fixes  the  places  upon  them  as  Geography  fixes 
the  points  upon  the  globe,  and  regards  as  poles  those  points  where  the 
line  of  vision  touches  the  retina.  If,  however,  the  quality  of  light 
falling  upon  the  identical  points  of  the  retinas  is  different,  the  mind 
sees  the  object  in  a  mixed  color.  The  relating  of  identical  retinal  stim- 
uli to  the  same  point  in  space  is  evidently  a  matter  of  habit,  and  goes 
hand  in  hand  with  projection.  Particulars  concerning  these  relations 
may  be  found  in  Helmholtz's  "Psychological  Optics,"  in  Volkmann's 
article  "Vision,"  in  Wagner's  "Dictionary  of  Human  Physiology," 
and  in  the  appropriate  technical  periodicals. 


62  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

2  24.  SENSE  CONTRIBUTION  TO  KNOWLEDGE. 

The  offices  that  the  various  senses  play  in  spiritual  life 
are  very  different.  The  vital  sense  creates  a  general  percep- 
tion of  our  own  organic  life;  the  chemical  senses  stand  in  close 
relation  to  the  bodily  processes  of  nourishing  and  breathing; 
touch  and  sight  participate  in  the  perceptions  of  the  spa- 
tially extended,  whereas  the  world  of  changes  in  time  falls 
to  the  sense  of  hearing. 

The  noblest  part  in  the  disclosure  of  the  external  world 
belongs  indisputably  to  the  sense  of  sight,  which  gives  rise 
to  nine-tenths  of  all  sense  perceptions.  Its  impressions  are 
so  distinguished  above  the  others  in  clearness  and  distinct- 
ness that  language  borrows  its  figures  for  the  perfection 
of  knowledge  from  this  sense  (idea,  insight,  evidence,  intui- 
tion), and  the  perceptions  arising  from  the  other  senses  must, 
for  the  sake  of  scientific  comparison,  be  reduced  to  optical 
perceptions;  as,  for  example,  temperatures  to  the  length  of 
a  tube  of  quicksilver,  difference  in  weight  to  the  graduation 
on  the  arm  of  the  scales,  etc. 

To  the  sense  of  sight  is  added  that  of  touch,  controlling 
and  rectifying  it.  Whereas  the  perceptions  of  sight  lead 
only  to  surface  images,  which  not  seldom  extend  to  optical 
illusions,  we  gain,  through  the  tangibility  of  the  sense  of 
touch,  the  conviction  of  the  solidity  of  external  things  and 
their  material  peculiarity.  The  two  senses  work  most  inti- 
mately together,  so  that  touch  presents  only  a  rude  seeing  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood  (touch  of  the  blind),  the  sense 
of  sight  only  a  refined  touching  at  a  distance. 

In  connection  with  the  mobility  of  the  organ  of  sight, 
the  greatest  assistance  is  furnished  by  the  touch  of  the  human 
hand  which  is  here  brought  to  its  highest  perfection,  in  that 
this  sense  arranges  external  objects  for  the  best  and  most 
complete  comprehension.  The  hand  works  with  the  eye  in 


SENSE  CONTRIBUTION  TO  KNOWLEDGE.  63 

the  most  intimate  manner;  without  the  hand  the  compass  of 
optical  perceptions  would  remain  limited  to  that  which  acci- 
dentally presents  itself  to  the  eye,  whereas  we  now,  by  means 
of  the  skillful  use  of  the  hand,  compel  objects  to  reveal  their 
most  hidden  aspects  to  the  eye.  In  addition,  we  work  with 
hand  tools,  with  which  we  again  produce  more  complete 
instruments,  until  in  this  way  we  arrive  at  those  instru- 
ments which,  partly  because  they  arm  our  senses  with  an 
energy  far  beyond  their  ordinary  achievements,  and  partly 
on  account  of  the  disclosure  of  entirely  new  kinds  of  natural 
activities  (e.  g.,  electrical  action  through  the  electroscope), 
are  to  be  regarded  as  artificial  organs  of  sense.  D 

Hearing  assists  but  little  in  the  knowledge  of  that  which 
is  extended  in  space,  but  all  the  more  for  the  perception  of 
that  which  occurs  or  develops  in  time.  Silence  is  the  picture 
of  fixedness  and  death;  all  motion,  all  change,  all  life,  are 
connected  with  the  production  of  sound.  But  not  only  outer, 
but  also  inner  change  is  revealed  by  hearing,  and  just  as 
sound  comes  from  within  and  depends  upon  the  material  qual- 
ities of  the  sound  producer  (straw,  wood,  iron,  silver, 


1)  The  hand,  provided  with  members,  duplicated,  and  finely  sen- 
sitive, is  a  specifically  human  organ,  comparable  to  a  universal  sense. 
The  animal  which  in  physical  regard  stands  next  to  man,  the  ele- 
phant (not  the  ape),  possesses  in  the  proboscis  the  organ  which 
approaches  the  hand  most  nearly,  although  it  lacks  the  separation 
into  fingers,  the  opposition  of  the  thumb,  and  the  presence  of  a  dupli- 
cate of  this  organ,  If  we  would  exalt  the  service  of  the  hand  for 
the  disclosure  of  nature,  serving  as  it  does  both  understanding  and 
will,  we  need  only  to  think  of  the  apparatus  and  experimenting  art 
of  the  physicist.  Nature  has  given  us  no  special  sense  for  electricity 
and  magnetism,  which  are  closely  related,  such  as  we  have  for  light, 
heat,  and  sound.  A  magnetic  storm  may  rage  at  our  feet,  setting  the 
magnetic  needle  into  violent  vibrations,  yet  we  perceive  it  not,  except 
when  we  have  provided  ourselves  with  an  artificial  sense  in  the  mag- 
netic declinator,  which  announces  to  us  the  slightest  variation  of  the 
magnetic  earth-force,  but  through  translation  into  optical  language. 
For  electric  currents,  which  announce  themselves  to  our  senses  only 
when  they  have  arrived  at  a  certain  intensity,  we  possess  in  Schwei- 
ger's  Multiplicator  an  instrument  of  the  highest  sensitiveness,  which 
shows  the  presence  of  the  slightest  current. 


64  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

stretched  membrane,  clock  ware),  so  it  reveals  to  our  ear 
the  hidden  peculiarities  of  things  which  evade  the  seeing  eye 
or  the  touching  hand,  and  which  so  peculiarly  affect  us  in 
the  mingling  of  the  various  sounds  of  nature,  in  the  wonder- 
ful expression  of  the  human  voice,  but  above  all  in  language 
and  music. 

So  the  sense-perceptions  work  together  to  assist  us  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  outer  world,  of  which  lights  and  colors, 
noises  and  musical  sounds,  smells  and  tastes,  degrees  of 
warmth,  hardness,  and  roughness,  are  to  be  regarded  as  ele- 
ments. Our  perceptions  of  the  same  external  thing,  gained 
through  the  different  senses,  come  together  in  our  conscious- 
ness into  a  whole,  or  total  perception,  of  which  the  sight- 
perception  takes  its  central  place,  hence  the  name  intuition^ 
(Anschauung). 

Thus,  in  the  sense-perception  (intuition)  of  common  salt, 
for  example,  are  included  the  whitish  color,  the  hexahedral 
form,  the  peculiar  taste,  the  rough,  hygroscopic  feeling,  and 
the  peculiar  crackling  when  pressed  together.  It  is  the  vital 
sensation  of  the  body  in  company  with  the  perceptions  of  the 
senses  which  furnishes  an  "intuition,"  or  sense-perception,  of 
the  latter. 

Remark  1. — The  sum  of  our  perceptions  forms  the  circle  of  our 
sense  experience,  and  at  the  same  time  the  material  which  conditions 
all  the  higher  activities  of  our  soul.  The  greatest  extension  of  this  cir- 
cle is  seen  in  the  first  years  of  life,  and  in  the  following  periods  of 
childhood  and  youth,  and  it  also  experiences  constant  extension  during 
middle  life.  Travels  in  foreign  countries,  intercourse  with  men, 
attendance  at  expositions,  theaters,  galleries,  museums,  menageries, 
collections  of  art,  factories  and  workshops,  mines,  the  examination 
of  varieties  and  curiosities,  are  capable  of  greatly  widening  this 
compass  of  sense  experience.  These  sense-perceptions  form  also  the 


1)  The  etymological  meaning  of  this  term  is  apparent,  but  its 
signification  has  become  so  ambiguous  through  extension,  that  it  is 
thought  best  not  to  retain  it  in  the  sense  of  a  direct  act  01  cognition 
through  the  senses. — Translator. 


BODILY  MOVEMENTS.  65 

Illustrations  for  our  mental  life;  where  they  are  lacking,  all  activity 
of  mind  degenerates  into  an  idle  play  of  thought.  It  is  with  reason, 
therefore,  that  modern  didactics  proposes  to  make  instruction  concrete, 
or  objective,  as  a  cardinal  requirement,  and  demands  demonstrations 
and  experiments  wherever  they  are  admissible.  (The  Orbls  Pictus 
of  Amos  Comenius  as  the  beginning  point  of  this  tendency.) 

Remark  2. — Animals  also  have  senses,  whose  number  hardly 
ranges  above  five,  while  with  many  animals  the  number  is  decidedly 
smaller;  and  there  are  animals  which  feel  only.  On  the  other  hand, 
certain  senses  with  animals  are  capable  of  a  particular  intensifying 
of  their  function.  Usually  the  apparatus  of  sense  is  simpler  with 
animals  than  with  man.  Thus,  as  we  descend  in  the  animal  king- 
dom, we  find  that  parts  of  these  organs  drop  off  one  by  one — with 
the  ear,  the  outer  ear,  the  chain  of  bones,  the  parts  composing  the 
labyrinth; — with  the  eye,  the  parts  of  the  dioptrical  apparatus,  until, 
finally,  a  nervous  membrane  takes  the  place  of  the  whole  organ.  The 
conditions  under  which  animals  live  lead,  likewise,  to  peculiar  devia- 
tions in  the  structure  of  the  organs  of  sense.  The  compound  eye  of 
the  insect,  with  its  mosaic  sight,  is  based  upon  an  entirely  different 
principle  from  that  of  the  eye  of  man;  it  offers  wide  limits  of  accom- 
modation with  less  distinctness.  So,  perhaps,  our  world  of  variegated 
colors  and  forms  is,  with  the  lower  animals,  gradually  reduced  more 
or  less  to  one  of  mere  light;  the  world  of  musical  sounds  or  individual 
noises,  to  one  of  mere  noise.  (See  the  exact  presentation  of  this  sub- 
ject by  C.  Bergmann  and  E.  Leuckart,  "Comparative  Anatomy  and 
Physiology,"  p.  436.) 


\  25.  BODILY  MOVEMENTS. 

Muscles  and  motor  nerves  comprise  the  motive  apparatus 
of  our  body.  Motion  is  excited  by  an  impulse  conducted  by 
a  motor  nerve  fiber  in  centrifugal  direction,  and  executed  by 
a  muscular  contraction. 

Movements  are  distinguished  as  voluntary  or  involuntary, 
according  as  the  ground  for  the  same  lies  in  the  soul  or  not, 
i.  e. ,  in  a  volition.  Between  the  two  lie  those  movements 
which  may  be  termed  automatic.  Their  source,  but  not  their 
consequence,  is  to  be  found  in  mental  activity. 


66  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Involuntary  movements  are  reflections  of  sensations  ex- 
cited from  without.  The  excitation  of  a  sensory  nerve  pene- 
trates to  a  nerve  center,  and,  by  means  of  a  ganglion,  is  here 
transferred  to  the  central  end  of  a  motor  nerve,  whereby  a  cer- 
tain motion  is  impelled,  without  any  action  of  the  soul  itself. 
The  simplest  case  of  such  transmission  is  that  of  reflex  move- 
ments, which  relate  mostly  to  the  warding  off  of  harmful 
attacks  from  without,  and  to  the  unconscious  utilization  of  that 
which  is  useful.  They  occur  even  in  beheaded  animals,  and 
often  take  on  the  appearance  of  purpose,  since  the  motor 
nerves  are  so  arranged  in  the  organism  of  the  animal  that  the 
stimulation  of  a  given  central  ganglion  excites  complex 
states,  and  therefore  stimulates  connected  movements.  In 
the  instinctive  movements  of  lower  animals  these  machine-like 
reflex-actions  are  at  their  highest  stage  of  development, 
whereas  in  man  they  retire  before  the  rule  of  intelligence. 

Automatic  movements  are  those  that  arise  mechanically, 
being  occasioned  by  the  mental  states  which  attend  them. 
To  this  class  belong  first,  imitative  and  facial  movements,  as 
well  as  bodily  manifestations  of  emotion.  They  are  withdrawn 
from  our  discernment  and  partially  from  our  direction.  Ges- 
ture and  play  of  feature  are  not  wholly  within  our  control 
(otherwise  the  formation  of  physiognomy,  which  is  feature 
and  gesture  made  permanent,  would  be  within  our  power), 
and  we  can  give  no  reason  why  laughing  should  be  associated 
with  pleasure,  and  crying  with  pain. 

Next  follow  imitative  movements,  in  which  the  percep- 
tion of  movement  breaks  out  the  more  into  actual  motion,  the 
less  self-control  hinders  it.  To  this  also  belong  locomotive 
motions  of  the  body,  as  in  walking,  dancing,  swimming,  prac- 
ticing of  gymnastics,  etc.  All  these  movements  .are  proba- 
bly caused  by  muscular  sensations,  which  call  forth  motions 
corresponding  to  those  by  which  they  were  themselves  for- 
merly produced. 


BODILY  MOVEMENTS.  67 

Voluntary  movements,  finally,  are  those  which  are  im- 
pelled and  carried  out  in  specific  directions  by  the  Will.  This 
execution  presupposes  control  of  the  apparatus  of  motion, 
which  is  gradually  gained  in  the  course  of  life  through  con- 
stant attempts  at  movement,  and  long  continued  exercises. 

Remark. — At  first  bodily  movements  are  consequences  which 
make  their  appearance  with  the  regularity  of  a  natural  mechanism, 
upon  the  occasion  of  certain  stimuli.  This  mechanism  remains  hidden 
from  our  insight  throughout  our  whole  life,  and  the  mind  succeeds 
only  gradually  in  its  attempts  to  govern  the  mechanism,  just  as  a 
workman  by  moving  levers  and  valves  controls  a  machine  of  whose 
inner  structure  he  has  no  conception.  "Reflex  motions  appear,  like 
the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  as  the  simplest  elements  of  that  accord- 
ance with  design  which  mechanically  determines  nature — which 
serves  the  soul  since  it  leaves  to  the  mind,  under  the  united  influ- 
ence of  perception  and  reflection,  the  combination  of  these  elements 
into  sufficiently  accurate  and  effective  means"  (Lotze).  In  the  animal 
world  the  combination  of  these  elements  is  by  no  means  left  to  voli- 
tion, but  is  determined  by  the  arrangement  of  the  central  parts  of  the 
nervous  system,  so  that  a  given  stimulus  calls  forth,  not  the  element- 
ary motion,  but  whole  groups  and  series  of  like  motions.  The  fore- 
going illustration  of  the  mechanism  holds  especially  of  animals, 
whereas  the  soul  of  man  is  more  in  the  condition  of  the  piano  player, 
who  entices  harmonious  tones  from  an  instrument  whose  mechanism 
is  unknown  to  him,  by  means  of  well  designed  strokes.  Whereas, 
then,  the  apparatus  of  motion  in  the  human  body  presents  a  univer- 
sal instrument,  which  the  soul  can  apply  to  the  most  various  pur- 
poses under  the  influence  of  practice,  the  body  of  the  animal,  espec- 
ially with  the  lower  animals,  is  throughout  a  machine,  which  the 
animal,  by  means  of  instinct,  can  use  in  only  one  way,  that,  namely, 
which  is  conditioned  by  the  inner  mechanical  arrangement.  The  body 
of  the  spider  is  a  spinning  apparatus,  that  of  the  fish  a  swimming 
apparatus.  "The  organism  of  the  chicken  is  so  arranged  that  it  can 
pick  up  grains,  and  it  does  this  immediately  as  soon  as  the  stimulus 
given  to  the  center  of  sensation  through  the  optical  apparatus,  has 
set  in  motion  the  first  motion  necessary  to  this  end.  The  chick 
will  do  this  as  soon  as  it  has  left  the  shell,  and  even  bef ore"(Lewes) . 


68  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

226.  THE  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

Sensations  are  mental  states,  which,  though  occasioned 
by  external  stimuli,  have  in  themselves  a  purely  subjective 
character.  We  learn  only  gradually  to  refer  these  subjective 
states  to  the  occasioning  stimuli,  and  thereby  use  them  -as 
means  to  our  knowledge  of  the  outer  world. 

The  sensation  with  reference  to  the  outer  object  which 
it  brings  to  our  consciousness  is  called  a  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 
The  perception  relates  to  something  which  has  been  per- 
ceived as  its  actual  object,  whether  this  object  be  a  thing,  a 
quality,  or  an  event.  Whereas  in  the  case  of  body-sensations 
the  perception  is  limited  to  our  own  body,  it  is  referred  in 
the  case  of  the  sense-perceptions  to  the  outer  world.  Colors, 
sounds,  smells,  and  tastes,  degrees  of  hardness  and  weight, 
are  peculiarities  in  the  aspect  of  external  things,  which  we 
perceive  by  means  of  the  sensation,  and  which  we  ascribe  to 
external  things  as  qualities. 

That  the  sensation  may  become  a  perception,  it  must  be 
freed,  or  separated  from  the  totality  of  impression  caused  by 
that  which  is  simultaneously  felt;  i.  e.,  it  must  be  isolated, 
and  referred  to  the  external  stimulus  which  caused  it;  i.  e., 
be  projected.  The  perception  is,  therefore,  nothing  more  than 
a  sensation,  isolated  from  all  others,  and  outwardly  projected. 

The  process  of  isolating  and  projecting  sensations  falls 
in  the  first  period  of  life.  The  new  born  child  looks,  but 
without  seeing;'  it  hears  without  understanding;  it  has  sen- 
sations without  having  perceptions.  The  sensations  unite  in 
its  consciousness  to  a  purely  intensive  sound-sensation,  in 
which  all  sensations  falling  in  the  same  beat  fuse  into  an 
inseparable  whole  of  impression,  which  announces  itself  sub- 
jectively, according  to  its  tone,  as  pleasant  or  painful,  with- 
out allowing  any  significance  of  content  to  its  elements.  No 
conscious  relation  to  the  outer  world  occurs  at  this  stage. 


THE  SENSE-PERCEPTION.  69 

This  begins  with  the  isolation  of  individual  sensations, 
or,  since  complete  isolation  never  wholly  occurs,  of  simple 
combinations  of  sensations,  as  a  consequence  of  their  excep- 
tional strength  and  their  opposition  to  other  simultaneously 
perceived  sensations.  "When  a  sensation  is  lifted  far  above 
its  threshold  value,  while  the  other  simultaneous  sensations 
relatively  or  perhaps  entirely  retire  before  it,  it  can  be  easily 
distinguished  from  them;  i.  e.,  be  isolated.  So,  in  a  confu- 
sion of  tones,  those  are  at  first  perceived  which  on  account 
of  strength  or  opposition  separate  themselves  from  the  others. 

The  projection  of  sensations  is  brought  about  through 
the  system  of  local  signs.  By  a  local  sign  is  understood  that 
peculiar  coloring  of  a  sensation  which  depends,  not  on  the 
outer  object  as  such,  but  on  the  direction  of  its  attack  against 
the  periphery  of  the  sensory  nerves.  If  all  stimuli  which 
touch  the  periphery  at  a  certain  place  give  rise  to  a  common 
content  of  sensation,  it  is  clear  that  all  these  sensations  are 
to  be  related  to  a  common  origin,  and  in  case  the  idea  of 
space  has  already  developed  in  the  soul,  to  the  same  place. 
So  it  happens  that  we  locate  sensations  out  of  the  soul  in  the 
body,  and  according  to  circumstances  outside  of  the  body  in 
the  outer  world.  Thus  we  perceive  the  pain  of  a  wound  in  the 
wounded  spot;  and,  after  the  amputation  of  a  limb,  even  in 
the  missing  member.  Sounds  and  colors,  on  the  other  hand, 
we  do  not  locate  in  the  ear  and  eye,  but  in  the  outer  world. 

Projection,  also,  which  with  the  acquisition  of  the  idea 
of  space  develops  to  localization,  is  a  matter  of  practice.  The 
infant  does  not  localize;  even  in  painful  operations  its  hands 
need  not  be  held,  since  it  does  not  know  the  seat  of  the  pain 
and  does  not  know  how  to  find  it  with  the  hand.  And  even 
the  adult  often  projects  falsely,  since  he  locates  the  humming 
in  the  ear  or  the  gnat  in  front  of  the  eye  at  a  distance. 

Remark  1. — The  isolation  of  individual  combinations  of  sensa- 
tions is  in  many  cases  the  consequence  of  a  movement  of  the  object. 


70  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

When  the  child  follows  a  moving  object  with  the  eye,  all  the  sight 
sensations  which  the  eye  receives  simultaneously  from  the  neighbor- 
hood change  in  rapid  succession,  and  only  the  sensations  originating 
in  the  moving  object  remain  unchanged.  The  sensation  from  this 
object  comes  into  relief  against  the  changing  surroundings;  the  atten- 
tion is  awakened  and  the  perception  begins. 

Remark  2. — The  local  signs  rest  partly  upon  the  sympathetic  sen- 
sations, which  arise  from  radiation  of  the  sense  stimulus,  as  was 
shown  in  the  sensation  of  touch  (§  20),  and  partly  upon  muscular 
sensations  which  accompany  the  outward  impression.  For  the  per- 
ception is  not  a  mere  passive  reception  from  without,  as  the  sensa- 
tion perhaps  might  be;  it  is  rather  mediated  in  all  cases  through 
active  movements,  which  effect  a  favorable  adjustment  of  the  organ 
of  sense  or  a  series  of  such  favorable  adjustments,  and  which  are 
reflected  in  our  consciousness  by  means  of  muscular  sensations.  In 
this  way  hearing  becomes  listening;  sight,  looking;  and  smell,  scent- 
ing, or  tracing  by  smell.  These  movements  of  adjustments  are  least 
developed  in  hearing,  although  they  are  not  wholly  lacking  there;  in 
hearing  we  have  only  the  obscure  muscular  sensation  of  a  certain 
tension  of  the  auditory  apparatus,  without  any  essential  differentia- 
tion of  the  muscular  sensations  for  the  different  directions  of  sound. 
For  this  reason  the  sound  perceived  through  one  ear  alone  may  per- 
haps be  projected  outward,  but  in  no  wise  localized.  Adjusting  move- 
ments are  most  perfect  in  the  eye,  which,  being  capable  of  great 
mobility,  is  alone  able  to  effect  a  precise  localization  as  regards  dis- 
tances. 

Remark  3. — The  perception  is  not  a  simple  somewhat,  nor  is  it 
originally  in  the  soul.  It  is  not  simple,  because  even  the  single  tone 
or  the  single  color  is  a  synthesis  of  several  partial  sensations,  to 
which  are  added  the  sensations  which  give  rise  to  the  local  signs;  but 
neither  is  it  anything  original  to  the  soul,  because  it  is  the  result  of 
a  gradually  widening  experience  as  to  the  relation  of  this  or  that  to 
the  mass  of  what  is  simultaneously  given  in  sensation.  A  more 
exact  description  of  the  process  which  is  fundamental  to  the  forma- 
tion of  perceptions  will  be  given  later  in  the  theory  of  attention  and 
of  the  notion  of  space. 


CHAPTER  II. 

REPRODUCTION  OF  CONCEPTS.    WHAT  BECOMES 
OF  THEM. 

\  27.  CLEAR  AND  OBSCURE  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

The  total  of  all  concepts  possessed  by  a  person  at  any 
given  moment  forms  the  consciousness  of  that  person  for 
that  moment.1) 

The  number  of  concepts  which  form  this  consciousness 
is  immeasurably  great.  For,  even  the  single  "general  sen- 
sation" (§  18)  we  have  considered  as  the  sum  total  of  num- 
berless single  sensations  which  answer  to  the  organic  changes 
of  the  whole  body. 

To  consciousness  concerning  the  body,  brought  about  by 
this  general  sensation,  is  to  be  added  consciousness  concern- 
ing the  external  world,  effected  by  the  senses.  We  know  not 
only  about  the  changes  within  our  body,  but  also  about  the 
events  without,  because  they  are  announced  to  our  conscious- 
ness through  sensations,  even  from  considerable  distances, 
by  means  of  sound  and  light. 

We  have,  finally,  each  moment,  a  multitude  of  concepts 
in  the  narrower  sense  of  the  term  (§  13),  to  which  no  imme- 
diate sense  impressions  correspond,  and  which  are  to  be 
explained  through  the  continued  existence  of  sensations 
which  have  formerly  been  present  in  consciousness. 


1)  That  the  content  of  this  consciousness  is,  like  the  view  in  a 
revolving  kaleidoscope,  a  perpetually  changing  one,  so  that  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  determine  it  for  a  single  moment,  is  sufficiently  well  known  to 
every  observer  of  mental  activities. 


72 


EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


The  form  in  which  these  numberless  concepts  meet  in 
order  to  effect  consciousness  is  that  of  synthesis  into  the 
strictest  unity, — the  form  of  interpenetration  even  for  con- 
cepts which  arise  from  objects  separated  in  space. 

Where  that  which  is  so  numerous,  so  manifold,  and  even 
so  different  in  kind  is  brought  together  into  a  strict  unity, 
it  can  not  be  expected  that  one  element  should  distinguish 
itself  clearly  from  the  others,  but  it  is  rather  conceivable  that 
the  many  should  flow  together  into  an  obscure  unorganized 
chaos.  Not  clearness,  therefore,  but  obscurity  is  the  orig- 
inal form  of  consciousness,  as  is  the  case  with  the  new  born 
child,  the  majority  of  animals,  and  with  the  adult  in  the  con- 
dition of  sleep. 

This  obscurity  lasts  as  long  as  the  concepts  are  equal, 
or  nearly  equal,  in  strength;  or,  figuratively  speaking,  as 
long  as  they  stand  equally  high  above  the  threshold  of 
consciousness: 

(Fio.  2.) 
A 


Very  soon,  however,  the  occasion  arises  for  individual 
concepts  to  be  distinguished  from  the  others,  either  through 
the  strength  of  the  sense  impression,  or  through  connection 
with  other  related  concepts: 

(Fio.  3.) 
A 

A 


CLEAR  AND  OBSCURE  CONSCIOUSNESS.  73 

As  a  matter  of  course,  the  other  concepts  must  to  the 
same  degree  sink  below  the  threshold  (wholly  or  partially), 
whereby  a  focusing  and  narrowing  or  concentrating  of  con- 
sciousness occurs,  the  former  at  A,  and  the  latter  from  mn 
to  op. 

In  this  way,  a  severe  bodily  pain  distinguishes  itself 
from  the  other  sensations  arising  from  the  body,  the  concept 
of  a  brightly  illuminated  object  from  those  of  other  objects; 
in  the  same  way,  the  form  of  an  acquaintance  is  clearly  per- 
ceived amid  a  crowd  of  persons. 

Our  consciousness  can,  therefore,  extend  over  an  unlim- 
ited number  of  concepts,  or  can  be  focused  in  a  narrow  circle 
of  concepts  which  belong  together.  In  the  first  case  the 
concepts  remain  obscure,  in  the  latter  they  become  clear. 
We  distinguish,  therefore,  an  obscure  (potential),  and  a  clear 
(actual)  state  of  consciousness. 

The  activity  of  the  soul  which  effects  the  concentrating  and 
focusing  of  our  consciousness  so  that  clearness  results,  is  called 
ATTENTION.  The  attention  is  always  directed  to  a  single 
object,  which  is  at  the  focus  of  mental  activity,  and  about 
which  all  that  is  related  to  it  gathers;  whereas  all  that  is 
foreign  to  it  (mo  and  pri),  is  pressed  below  the  threshold  of 
consciousness.  If  the  object  of  attention  is  an  extended  or 
complex  one,  as  is  usually  the  case,  the  focus  of  attention 
moves  from  one  point  to  another. 

The  opposite  of  attention  is  a  general  distraction  or 
absent-mindedness,  which  turns  to  no  special  object  (listless- 
ness,  indifference,  sleepiness).  A  partial  absent-mindedness; 
i.  e. ,  inattention  for  everything  except  for  a  special  object,  is 
inseparably  united  to  the  condition  of  attention,  for  to  be 
attentive  to  one  thing  means  to  be  inattentiva  to  all  else.  For 
example,  the  absent-mindedness  of  many  scholars  for  events 
in  their  neighborhood  in  consequence  of  attention  directed 
to  study  is  well  known.  Many  things  which  occur  in  our 


74  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

neighborhood  are  lost  to  us,  because  our  attention  is  other- 
wise directed.  When,  for  example,  we  are  absorbed  in  some 
activity,  we  do  not  hear  the  stroke  of  the  clock,  do  not  notice 
the  entrance  of  a  person,  etc.  Archimedes,  intent  upon  his 
geometrical  figures,  could  thus  fail  to  hear  the  war  cries  at 
the  siege  of  Syracuse.  The  objective  conditions  of  the  sense- 
perception  are  not  wanting,  the  waves  of  sound  reach  the 
ear,  the  rays  of  light  enter  the  eye,  and  there  is  no  doubt 
that  certain  obscure  sensations  are  present  in  the  mind;  but 
the  attention  is  directed  to  other  things. 

The  attention  may  follow  the  strongest  impressions  in- 
voluntarily (lightning,  contrasted  phenomena,  the  novel),  but 
it  can  also  be  voluntarily  directed  to  the  most  insignificant 
things.1) 

Remark  1. — The  greater  number  of  our  concepts  belong  to  obscure 
consciousness,  and  Leibnitz  long  ago  made  the  striking  remark,  that 
our  clear  concepts  are  like  islands,  which  rise  above  the  ocean  of 
obscure  ones.  The  Psycho-Physic  law  (g  16)  teaches  us  that  the 
threshold  of  the  (clear)  sensation  lies  higher  than  the  zero  point  of 
the  stimulus.  Those  stimuli  which  lie  below  the  threshold  value,  do 
not,  however,  pass  by  entirely  without  trace;  numerous  experiences 
show  that  they  leave  in  our  consciousness  obscure  concepts  as  traces. 
If  the  stimulus  which  lies  below  the  threshold  value  suddenly  ceases, 
we  become  conscious  of  it,  though  we  had  not  noticed  its  positive 
reaction;  we  perceive  when  the  pendulum  suddenly  stops;  one  awakes 
from  deep  sleep  in  a  mill  when  the  machinery  suddenly  ceases  to 
move.  While  these  concepts  were  originally  obscure,  there  is  a  more 
numerous  class  of  concepts  now  obscure,  which  originally  arose  from 
obscurity  into  clearness.  All  concepts  which  were  once  in  conscious- 
ness belong  to  this  innumerable  host. 

Remark  2. — The  obscure  concepts  are  of  extraordinary  impor- 
tance for  the  process  of  soul  life;  nor  has  this  importance,  up  to  the 
present  time,  been  fully  recognized.  They  constitute  in  our  con- 
sciousness a  chorus,  which,  though  not  appearing  in  an  active  role, 


1)  The  more  exact  significance  of  attention  can  only  be  given 
later.  (See  \  46.) 


CLEAR  AND  OBSCURE  CONSCIOUSNESS.  75 

yet  continually  mingle  in  the  drama  of  soul  life.  The  obscure  con- 
cepts are  to  our  consciousness,  what  the  great  mass  of  people  are  to 
society.  From  them  comes  the  motive  power  which  guides  the  activ- 
ities above  the  threshold  of  consciousness. 

Remark  3. — Clear  consciousness  may  be  thought  as  the  circle  of 
those  concepts  upon  which  attention  rests.  Experience  shows  us  that 
this  circle,  like  the  pupil  of  the  eye,  can  be  extended  or  contracted 
within  certain  rather  wide  limits.  The  greatest  narrowing  occurs 
when  we  concentrate  our  attention  upon  a  single  object,  as,  for 
example,  when  we  become  absorbed  in  thought,  or  narrowly  observe 
an  outward  phenomenon;  the  greatest  extension  takes  place  when 
we  widen  the  bounds  of  the  narrow  consciousness  to  its  greatest 
extent,  in  which  case  there  would  be  really  no  concentration  of  mind 
and  no  attention.  It  is  apparent  that  the  width  of  this  circle  is 
indirectly  proportional  to  the  clearness  of  its  single  points;  i.  e., 
that  our  attention  is  so  much  the  less  intensive,  the  more  extensive  it 
is,  or  the  more  it  is  divided. 

Remark  4. — The  attention  is  involuntary  when  it  is  awakened  and 
guided  by  the  sense-impressions  themselves,  without  the  agency  of 
the  Will;  it  is  voluntary  when  it  stands  under  the  influence  of  the 
Will.  Powerful  sense  stimuli  are  able  to  arouse  our  attention,  because 
strong  sensations  correspond  to  them;  but  even  the  gentlest  impres- 
sions can  make  their  way  into  our  clear  consciousness,  when  they  are 
met  by  that  form  of  consciousness  known  as  interest.  (The  observa- 
tions of  the  astronomer,  the  physicist,  the  physician,  the  angler,  the 
impassioned  man.)  It  is  well  known  that  new  impressions  in  par- 
ticular excite  our  attention,  because  here  the  perception  is  more 
easily  distinguished  from  the  mass  of  the  others  on  account  of  its 
contrast.  (Perception  of  a  comet.)  It  is  also  known  that,  up  to  a 
certain  limit,  attention  rests  under  the  influence  of  the  Will.  With- 
out changing  the  position  of  the  eye  in  the  least,  we  can  make  clear 
now  this,  now  that  part  of  the  field  of  vision  through  an  application 
of  the  attention,  and  in  a  concert  it  is  easy  to  attend,  now  to  the 
stringed,  now  to  the  wind  instruments,  now  to  the  height  of  the  tones, 
now  to  their  force. 

Remark  5. — Attention  manifests  itself  not  only  in  the  elevation 
of  a  concept  into  a  certain  degree  of  clearness,  but  also  in  the  retention 
(fixing)  of  the  same;  I.  e.,  the  retaining  of  this  degree  of  clearness 
through  a  measurable  time.  Only  in  this  way  can  a  concept  escape 


76  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

for  a  short  time  the  universal  fate  of  concepts,  which  is,  in  the  change 
of  psychical  states,  to  sink  below  the  threshold  of  consciousness.  As  is 
known,  children  can  not  retain  even  a  sense-impression  for  a  long 
time,  and  it  is  rightly  held  to  be  a  characteristic  of  a  rightly  formed 
consciousness,  that  it  can  retain  a  thought  through  changes  of 
impressions  and  ideas,  and  examine  it  in  all  its  relations.  Herbart 
rightly  remarks,  "Quodcumque  summi  homines  valent  ingento  et  dell- 
gentla,  id  valent  attentions." 


I  28.    FUNDAMENTAL    LAWS  FOR  THE  RECIPROCAL 
ACTION  OF  CONCEPTS. 

A  numberless  multitude  of  concepts  constantly  press 
into  consciousness  (clear  consciousness),  partly  from  the  cur- 
rent of  body-sensations  and  from  the  five  senses,  partly  from 
the  side  of  the  circle  of  obscure  concepts;  for,  every  obscure 
concept  strives  to  come  into  consciousness,  and  would  suc- 
ceed, were  it  not  hindered  by  a  similar  striving  of  the  other 
obscure  concepts. 

Our  consciousness  is  not  able  to  receive  all  these  con- 
cepts; for,  otherwise,  the  representing  power  of  the  soul 
would  be  an  infinite  magnitude. J)  Experience  teaches,  rather, 
that  in  the  measure  in  which  we  apply  our  mental  activity  to 
one  object,  we  must  withdraw  it  from  all  others.  This  fact 
is  called  the  concentration  of  consciousness. 

On  account  of  this  narrowing  or  concentrating  of  con- 
sciousness, the  concepts  come  into  reciprocal  competition,  in 
that  they  severally  contest  for  the  floor  of  consciousness.  The 
cause  of  this  contest  is  the  opposite  nature  of  the  concepts, 
in  that  each  strives  to  determine  consciousness  in  a  different 
sense  (black,  white,  high,  low,  motion,  rest).  The  effect  is 


1)  The  soul's  power  of  representation  is  a  finite  one,  an  unchange- 
able magnitude  for  a  certain  class  of  conditions.  This  power  is  by 
no  means  a  constant  one  for  different  time  points,  but  is  subject  to 
very  great  variations,  as  appears  in  the  highest  pitch  of  passion,  its 
upper,  and  in  the  calmness  of  deep  sleep,  its  lowest  limit. 


FUNDAMENTAL  LAWS,  77 

reciprocal  arrest,  which  consists  in  this,  that  the  effect  of 
every  concept;  i.  e.,  mental  activity  as  consciousness  of  the 
content  of  the  concept,  is  wholly  or  partially  restrained. 

Only  those  concepts  are  free  from  arrest,  between  which 
there  is  no  opposition  in  nature.  They  are,  first,  those  of 
like,  and,  second,  those  of  totally  different  nature  (like  and 
disparate  concepts).  The  concepts  "white"  and  "cold,"  in 
the  including  concept  "snow,"  do  not  arrest  each  other. 

Similar  concepts  (§  15),  like  white  and  black,  cold  and 
hot,  are  opposed,  and  arrest  each  other;  they  reciprocally 
obscure  one  another  and  sink  below  the  threshold  of  con- 
sciousness. 

That  which  remains  after  the  arrest  must  unite  into  a 
strict  unity,  for  (according  to  the  foregoing  paragraph)  the 
form  of  consciousness  is  that  of  strictest  synthesis  into  unity. 

Whereas  different  kinds  of  concepts  unite  with  their  full 
intensities  (degrees  of  strength),  because  they  are  free  from 
opposition  in  their  nature,  the  similar  kinds  of  concepts  (op- 
posed) unite  with  only  those  degrees  ofintensity  remaining 
after  the  arrest.  In  the  first  case  the  union,  or  synthesis,  is 
complete,  in  the  latter  it  is  incomplete;  the  former  we  will  call 
groups,  or  complications;  the  latter,  fusions.  To  the  groups 
of  concepts  belong  especially  perceptions  of  individual  things, 
whose  characteristics,  however,  on  account  of  their  non-com- 
parableness,  are  free  from  every  opposition  (?  24).  When  I 
perceive  a  group  of  men,  the  sensations  which  relate  to  one 
individual  form  a  complication,  or  group,  but  those  which 
relate  to  the  whole  group  of  men,  form  a  fusion  of  concepts. 

From  what  has  been  said,  the  following  simple  laws  for 
the  reciprocal  interaction  of  concepts  may  be  derived: 

1.  Simultaneous  concepts  fuse;  i.  e.,  they  flow  together 
into  a  single  act  of  cognition, 

2.  Simultaneous  concepts  of  different  natures  fuse  with- 
out arrest  into  a  total  concept  (complication). 


78  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

3.  Simultaneous  concepts  of  opposed  nature  first  arrest 
one  another  and  then  fuse  with  degrees  of  intensity  remain- 
ing from  the  arrest. 

4.  Total  concepts  are  either  complete  or  incomplete  syn- 
theses, either  complications  (groups)  or  fusions  in  the  nar- 
rower sense. 

Remark. — Perceptions  are  the  first  permanent  combinations  of 
the  elements  of  our  cognizing  activity,  namely,  the  sensations  arising 
from  the  senses  like  words  from  letters.  All  our  perceptions  rest 
upon  the  synthesis  of  particular  colors  and  forms  with  specific  tones, 
impressions  of  touch,  smells,  and  tastes.  But  perceptions  are  grouped 
again  into  higher,  more  compound  concept-structures,  as  words  of  a 
language  unite  to  make  sentences.  The  perception  of  a  landscape, 
extending  before  our  eyes,  is  a  very  complicated  concept  structure, 
to  whose  comprehension  the  mere  opening  of  the  eyes  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  stream  of  light  by  no  means  suffices;  for,  animals,  chil- 
dren, and  idiots  turn  their  eyes  toward  the  landscape  without  obtain- 
ing a  perception  of  it.  One  must  first  have  gained  a  sense-perception 
of  the  leaf,  the  tree,  the  thicket,  etc.,  before  one  can  succeed  in  find- 
ing the  bearing  of  things  in  a  landscape  by  means  of  the  eye. 


2  29.   ARREST  IN  PARTICULAR. 

Arrest  relates  not  to  the  content,  but  to  the  intensity  of 
concepts  (I  15);  it  is  not  a  change  in  the  concept  itself,  but  is 
a  diminishing  of  the  concept  power. 

The  concepts  suffer  this  lessening  of  their  power  in 
indirect  proportion  to  their  original  strength,  or  intensity. 
The  weaker  a  concept  is  the  greater  is  the  part  of  the  sum  of 
arrest  which  it  must  take  upon  itself.  If  this  part  becomes 
greater  than  its  original  strength,  the  magnitude  of  its  actual 
representing  power  becomes  reduced  below  the  zero  point; 
i.  e. ,  the  concept  sinks  below  the  threshold  of  consciousness. 
The  arrest  of  concepts  leads  therefore  to  the  obscuring  of 
those  which  can  least  resist.  Experience  teaches  us  that  those 


ARREST  IN  PARTICULAR.  79 

concepts  which  suffer  arrest  constantly  sink  out  of  conscious- 
ness to  make  place  for  others.  On  account  of  this  coming 
and  going,  our  consciousness  is  subjected  to  a  constant  move- 
ment, in  that  the  equipoise  of  the  concepts  changes  from 
moment  to  moment. 

The  share  of  arrest  which  the  total  concept  must  assume 
is  divided  among  its  elements,  i.  e.,  among  the  partial  con- 
cepts. They  reciprocally  assist  one  another  in  supporting 
the  arrest;  one  helps  the  other  to  assert  itself  in  conscious- 
ness against  opposition.  They  are  called,  therefore,  ' '  helps. " 
In  a  total  concept,  M  (image  of  our  home),  composed  of  many 
partial  concepts,  A,  B,  C,  (parental  house,  environ- 
ment, father,  mother,  brothers,  and  sisters,  ),  these 

partial  concepts  are  "helps  "  for  one  another  and  for  the  total 
concept,  M;  their  effect  is  to  prevent  this  from  being  perma- 
nently obscured.  If  one  of  these  partial  concepts  is  in  itself 
very  weak,  for  example,  C,  it  can,  notwithstanding,  by  the 
aid  of  the  others  maintain  itself  against  the  arrest,  which 
would  not  be  the  case  if  it  stood  unconnected  in  consciousness. 
So,  in  the  total  picture  of  our  home,  even  the  most  insignifi- 
cant features  appear,  whereas  much  stronger  impressions,  for 
example,  those  received  upon  journeys,  are  irreparably  lost. 

The  force  with  which  a  concept  resists  arrest  depends 
not  only  upon  its  original  strength,  but  also  upon  its  fusion 
with  other  concepts.  ' '  Fusion  mitigates  the  force  of  the 
arrest,  in  that  it  diffuses  this  force."  But  it  must  be  here 
noted,  that  partial  concepts  assist  one  another  only  in  so  far 
as  they  are  fused  together,  complications  or  groups  of  con- 
cepts; e.  g.,  perceptions  (3  28),  manifest  a  greater  capability 
of  resistance  than  do  imperfect  fusions,  because  the  partial 
concepts  in  the  former  case  appear  as  helps  to  one  another 
with  their  full  intensity,  whereas,  in  the  latter  case,  the 
amount  of  help  is  measured  by  the  intensity  remaining  after 
arrest. 


80  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Through  fusion,  arrest  is  extended  also  to  concepts  be- 
tween which  there  was  originally  no  opposition.  A  and  B 
(light  stimulus  and  sound  excitation)  are  originally  disparate, 
and  therefore  free  from  arrest;  but  B  is  fused  with  A,,  which 
is  opposed  to  A.  In  this  way,  A,,  as  partial  concept  of  Aj  B, 
is  drawn  into  the  arrest.  On  this  account  we  close  the  eyes 
in  order  to  receive  the  full  effect  of  a  piece  of  music.  Upon 
this  rests  the  fact  established  by  Bessel,  that  in  astronomical 
observations  the  exactness  of  sight  perceptions  is  injured  by 
simultaneous  perceptions  of  hearing  (e.  g.,  by  noting  the 
strokes  of  a  pendulum — personal  mistakes  in  observations). 

Remark  1. — If  one  wishes,  with  Herbart,  to  subject  the  arrest  of 
concepts  to  mathematical  calculation,  in  order  to  calculate  the  share 
of  the  partial  concepts  in  arrest,  one  must  know,  1)  the  sum  of  arrest, 
and  2),  the  relation  of  the  arrest.  "With  two  concepts,  A  and  B,  whose 
intensities  are  respectively  a  and  b,  and  whereby  a  >  b,  the  sum  of 
arrest  in  complete  opposition  would  evidently  be  equal  to  the  strength 
of  the  weaker  concept,  that  is,  equal  to  b;  for  suppose  by  a  fiction 
that  B  is  under  total  arrest,  the  power  of  the  two  concepts  to  unite 
is  made  out,  and  all  ground  for  further  arrest  is  removed.  But  in 
reality,  this  sum  of  arrest,  b,  is  not  borne  alone  by  B,  but  by  A 
and  B  in  common,  and,  more  exactly,  in  indirect  proportion  to  their 
strength. 

In  order  to  calculate  the  share  in  arrest  of  A  and  B,  one  needs 
only  to  apply  the  rule  of  fellowship,  and  to  assume  b  as  the  sum  to 
be  divided.  If  x  and  y  are  the  shares  in  arrest  of  A  and  B  respect- 
ively, we  have,  according  to  the  rule  of  fellowship: 

1.  (a  +  b)  :  b  =  b  :  x  °2  a  b 

;  therefore  x  =: ,  y  = 

2.  (a  +  b)  :  b-a:  y  a_j_b         a+b. 

"  After  arrest,  the  two  concepts,  A  and  B,  fuse  with  the  values,  a — x 
and  b — y.  Were,  for  example,  the  intensities  of  two  entirely  opposed 
concepts  12  and  6  before  the  arrest,  the  sum  of  arrest  would  be  6,  and 
the  share  of  arrest  of  the  stronger  concept,  namely  2,  is  half  as  great 
as  the  weaker,  namely  4,  and  their  remainders  of  intensity  after  the 
arrest  are  accordingly  10  and  2.  Should  y=b  or  y — b,  though  with 
merely  two  concepts  this  could  not  happen,  the  remainder  of  actual  rep- 


REPRODUCTION  OF  CONCEPTS.  81 

resenting  intensity  would  be  zero  or  negative  for  B;  that  is,  B  would 
suffer  obscuration.  It  is  considerations  of  this  sort  that  lie  at  the 
basis  of  "The  Statics  and  Dynamics  of  Concepts"  founded  by  Her- 
bart,  whose  design  can  by  no  means  be  the  calculations  in  concrete 
form  of  the  actual  processes  of  consciousness,  i)  because  these  pro- 
cesses are,  in  the  first  place,  far  too  complicated  and  inconstant,  and 
second,  because  a  measurement  of  the  intensity  of  a  concept  is  not 
possible  (Compare  \  16,  Remark  31). 

Remark  2. — If  the  two  opposed  concepts,  A  and  B,  meeting  in  con- 
sciousness, are  reduced  from  their  original  intensities,  a  and  b,  to  those 
corresponding  to  the  laws  of  arrest,  ai  and  bi,  there  is  no  occasion  for 
further  arrest;  equipoise  is  established,  and  the  two  concepts,  A  and 
B,  with  their  remainders,  ai  and  bi,  fuse  into  a  total  concept,  AB.  In 
this  way,  A  sinks  from  a  to  ai,  B  from  b  to  bi,  and  therefore  pass 
through  a  series  of  degrees  of  intensity,  to  which  time  is  necessary. 
This  results  in  the  notion  of  a  movement  of  concepts,  which  though 
in  reality  only  one  through  different  intensities,  may  figuratively  be 
regarded  as  a  movement  toward  the  threshold  of  consciousness.  This 
sinking  movement,  as  the  passage  through  different  degrees  of  inten- 
sity in  a  certain  time,  will  take  place  with  an  increasing  velocity. 
For  the  sinking  of  concepts  is  proportional  to  the  sum  of  arrest;  the 
more  the  concepts  are  already  arrested,  however,  the  smaller  will  be 
the  sum  of  arrest,  but,  therefore,  the  necessity  also  to  a  further  sink- 
ing. Concepts  approach  their  position  of  equipoise  slower  and  slower, 
but  without  ever  entirely  reaching  it.  "Our  mind  is  very  often  nearly, 
but  never  entirely,  at  rest"  (Herbart). 


g  30.   REPRODUCTION  OF  CONCEPTS. 

The  total  arrest  of  a  concept  is  its  obscuration,  or  eclipse. 
Its  degree  of  clearness  becomes  zero,  it  sinks  beneath  the 

1)  Exact  investigations  of  this  subject  have  led  to  the  result  that 
the  sum  of  arrest  between  several  concepts  is  equal  to  the  sum  of  all 
the  concepts  excepting  the  strongest.  From  this  it  follows,  further, 
that  the  accumulation  of  numerous  concepts  of  small  intensity  may 
produce  a  significant  sum  of  arrest,  which  is  then  divided  chiefly 
among  the  weaker  concepts,  and  explains  the  depressing  effect  of 
numerous  obscure  concepts  upon  the  sum  total  of  consciousness. 


82  EMPIRICAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 

threshold,  we  are  no  longer  conscious  of  it.  The  obscuration 
of  a  concept  is,  however,  not  its  extermination,  but  only  a 
latent  condition  of  the  conceiving  power.  This  is  proved  by 
the  fact  of  reproduction. 

By  reproduction  is  understood  the  return  of  obscured 
concepts  to  consciousness.  Experience  shows  that  every  con- 
cept which  was  ever  in  consciousness,  can,  under  favorable 
circumstances,  return  to  consciousness. 

These  favorable  circumstances  consist  in  the  removal  of 
the  arrest  which  caused  the  obscuration. 

A  concept  may  be  freed  from  the  arrest  which  caused  it 
to  disappear  from  consciousness  in  two  ways, — either  by 
itself  or  through  the  assistance  of  other  concepts.  The  first 
arises  when  a  concept  like  the  first  enters  consciousness;  the 
second,  when  a  concept  which  has  been  combined  or  fused 
with  the  first  enters  consciousness.  In  the  former  case,  sim- 
ilarity, or  equality;  in  the  latter,  simultaneity  appears  to  be 
the  real  cause  of  reproduction. 

A  concept,  A,  returns  to  consciousness  through  its  own 
power,  when  a  similar  concept,  At,  enters.  The  opposites  of 
A  are  also  the  opposites  of  A1;  and  while  Al  struggles  against 
its  own  opposing  concepts,  it  at  the  same  time  assists  A  to  a 
victory,  by  removing  arrest  from  it.  The  arrested  concept, 
A,  is  thus  freed  from  arrest,  and  it  arises  into  consciousness 
through  its  own  power.  In  the  same  way  a  spiral  spring 
rises  when  the  weight  which  held  it  is  removed. 

But  a  concept,  A,  may  return  to  consciousness  because 

it  is  fused  with  others,  B,  C, into  a  total  concept  M, 

which  equals  A,  B,  C B  and  C  appear  as  "helps" 

for  A,  and  bring  it  above  the  threshold.  In  this  case  A  is 
reproduced  because  it  had  been  in  consciousness  simultane- 
ously with  B  and  C  one  or  more  times. 

Reproduction  on  account  of  equality  or  similarity  is 
called  direct;  that  on  account  of  simultaneity,  indirect,  or 


REPRODUCTION  OF  CONCEPTS.  83 

mediate, — the  latter  because  another  reproduction,  that  of 
the  assisting  concepts,  is  presupposed. 

The  recognition  of  a  person  or  thing,1)  every  spontaneous 
remembrance  of  anything  is  an  act  of  immediate,  or  direct, 
reproduction.  The  awakening  of  concepts  by  means  of  signs 
which  have  no  similarity  to  the  thing  signified,  but  which  are 
only  related  to  them  through  simultaneity,  as  well  as  the 
association  of  concepts  on  the  ground  of  juxtaposition  in 
space  or  succession  in  time,  rests  upon  mediate  or  indirect 
reproduction. 

Remark  1. — The  two  kinds  of  reproduction  form  an  opposition, 
and  in  the  development  of  the  life  of  the  soul  often  invade  each 
other.  Direct  or  immediate  reproduction  unites  the  similar  in  kind, 
however  separate  in  consciousness  the  elements  may  be,  so  far  as 
time  is  concerned;  indirect,  or  mediate  reproduction  unites  the  simul- 
taneous, however  unlike  in  content  the  elements  may  appear;  the 
former  is  the  logical,  the  latter  the  mechanical  factor  of  the  flow  of 
representation.  Direct  or  logical  reproduction  prevails  in  scientific 
treatment,  in  thoughtful  reflection,  and  also  in  the  free  movement  of 
fancy  and  the  creations  of  genius;  the  indirect,  or  mechanical,  in 
intensified  discourse  and  in  all  habitual  affairs.  Upon  the  former  rest 
spontaneous  thought  and  the  creations  of  genius;  upon  the  latter 
depend  all  rote  learning,  and  the  readiness  of  the  well  schooled  head. 


1)  When  a  child  sees  an  object  for  the  second,  third,  or  fourth 
time,  it  recognizes  this  object  as  that  which  it  has  already  seen  one  or 
more  times.  In  this  way  the  earlier,  obscure  concept  of  this  thing  is 
reproduced  through  a  new  perception  of  it.  So  the  eye,  glancing  rest- 
lessly about  among  a  number  of  strange  people,  is  suddenly  fixed  upon 
the  features  of  an  acquaintance  whom  we  have  recognized  as  such. 
But  not  alone  the  former  concept  of  this  acquaintance  is  reproduced 
by  the  new  sight  of  him;  this  concept  brings  with  it  a  whole  group 
of  other  concepts  which  were  associated  with  it  by  means  of  simul- 
taneity. We  not  only  recognize  our  old  acquaintance,  but  we  remem- 
ber also  the  circumstances  under  which  we  saw  him  for  the  first  time; 
as,  for  instance,  the  place  where  he  was,  who  accompanied  him,  his 
actions,  etc.  The  reproduction  of  former  concepts  through  repeated 
perceptions  of  an  object  strengthens  them.  Were  there  no  reproduc- 
tion, the  everyday  things  about  us  would  always  seem  new  and  strange; 
we  should  never  be  able  to  get  our  bearings  in  the  external  world. 


84  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark  2. — The  relief  from  arrest  which  is  the  cause  of  the  free 
mounting  of  the  obscured  concepts,  may  also  be  brought  about  by 
physiological  causes,  as  in  sleep  in  the  form  of  dreams.  Sleep  itself 
exercises  an  arrest  upon  our  whole  consciousness,  proceeding  from 
what  may  be  called  the  sleep-sensation,  or  from  alienated  vital  sensa- 
tion arising  from  the  weariness  of  the  muscle  and  nerve  systems;  by 
this  means  all  the  concepts  of  the  waking  soul  life,  and  consequently 
all  our  troubles  and  cares,  are  swept  away,  and  sleep  approaches  us 
nightly,  as  a  liberator.  Upon  waking,  the  arrest  caused  by  the  sleep- 
sensation  departs,  and  the  concepts  mount  freely  from  the  depths  of 
consciousness,  but  without  connecting  precisely  to  the  trains  of 
thought  of  the  previous  evening,  so  that  every  day  forms,  in  a  meas- 
ure, its  own  psychical  whole — a  most  beneficent  arrangement. 

Remark  3. — The  fusion  of  the  simultaneous  increases  in  com- 
pleteness and  stability  when  repetition  is  added.  Therefore  those  con- 
cept structures  are  particularly  strong,  in  which  the  meeting  of  con- 
cepts in  consciousness  is  not  accidental,  but  in  which  they  are  rooted 
to  one  another  in  certain  constant  relations  to  things,  as  in  sense-per- 
ceptions, or  where  they  are  fixed  by  long  use,  as  in  the  connection 
between  the  forms  of  speech  and  their  corresponding  general  con- 
ceptions. On  the  other  hand,  connections  of  concepts  can  be  fixed  in 
consciousness  by  means  of  continual  practice,  which  appear  from 
their  fixedness  as  the  expression  of  a  naturally  given  and  objective 
state  of  facts,  although  they  may  be  nothing  but  subjective  concep- 
tions, and  not  unfrequently  even  mere  idiosyncrasies.  This  explains 
the  confounding  of  convenience  with  morality,  of  what  is  fashionably 
pleasing  with  what  is  truly  beautiful,  of  mere  time  succession  with 
causality  (post  hoc,  ergo  propter  hoc),  as  well  as  the  various  forms  of 
superstition  (significance  of  dreams,  and  the  like). 


I  31.   SPECIAL  LAWS  OF  REPRODUCTION. 

All  reproduction  of  concepts  may  be  reduced  to  the  two 
processes  of  direct  and  indirect  reproduction.  Yet,  since 
the  time  of  Aristotle,  four  specific  laws  of  reproduction  have 
been  distinguished,  viz; 


SPECIAL  LAWS  OF  REPRODUCTION.  85 

(FiG.  4.) 

AB 


1.  THE  LAW  OP  SIMILARITY.    It  reads,  <  'Similar  concepts 
reproduce  one  another. "    Similar  concepts,  however,  are  such 
as  are  partially  alike;  as,  A  B  and  AC.     If  A  B  comes  into 
consciousness  the  A  of  the  compound  concept  A  C  is  called 
into  consciousness  through  direct  reproduction,  but  C  is  in- 
directly called  into  consciousness  through  A.     Thus,  a  por- 
trait recalls  the  original.     Upon  this  law  depends  the  force 
of  the  metaphor,  the  allegory,  the  parable. 

2.  THE  LAW  OF  CONTRAST.     It  reads,  "  Contrasted  con- 
cepts reciprocally  reproduce  one  another."     Contrasted  con- 
cepts are  such  as  are  both  similar  and  opposed,  and  in  which 
the  opposition  exceeds  the  similarity. 

Contrast  is  only  a  specific  case  of  similarity.  What  alone 
is  peculiar  here  is  the  reciprocal  "illumination"  of  the  con- 
trast, which  rests  upon  the  fact  that  a  concept  which  is  rein- 
forced by  its  "helps,"  rises  clearer  into  consciousness,  the 
more  its  opposing  concept  seeks  to  reduce  its  degree  of  clear- 
ness. Thus,  a  beggar  appears  the  poorer  when  he  is  con- 
trasted with  a  Croesus;  a  sharper  is  more  distinctly  charac- 
terized when  he  is  called  a  man  of  honor,  or  the  usurer  when 
he  is  declared  to  be  a  spendthrift.  Among  a  hundred  things 
which  we  possess,  that  appears  momentarily  the  most  valuable 
which  we  must  give  up;  as,  a  mother  will  declare  that  one  of 
her  children  the  dearest  which  was  to  be  immediately  torn 
from  her  by  death.  Many  effects  in  art  depend  upon  the 


8G  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

uniting  of  contrasts;  e.  g.,  the  disposition  of  light  and  shade 
in  the  union  of  colors  in  painting,  the  alternation  of  the  trag- 
ical and  the  comical  in  the  drama  (Shakspeare),  the  cauteriz- 
ing effect  of  irony  in  contrast  to  sarcasm  and  to  euphemism. 

3.  THE  LAW  OP  SIMULTANEITY.     It  reads,    "Concepts 
which  were  simultaneously  in  consciousness  reproduce  one 
another. "    They  do  this  by  indirect,  or  mediate  reproduction, 
because  they  are  parts  of  total  or  composite  concepts.     In 
accordance  with  this  law  we  unite  in  our  thoughts  what 
nature  has  united  in  the  form  of  juxtaposition  in  space,  or  of 
succession  in  time.     This  is  the  opposite  of  the  process  which 
unites  according  to  similarity.     In  the  latter  case,  we  put 
that  together  in  thought  which  "logically"  belongs  together 
on  account  of  relation  in  content,  no  matter  whether  it  ap- 
pears united  according  to  space  and  time  or  not;  in  uniting 
according  to  simultaneity  we  put  that  together  which  acci- 
dentally comes  together  in  space  and  time,  without  concern- 
ing ourselves  whether  according  to  content  it  really  belongs 
together  or  not.     It  is  easy  to  see  that  similarity  leads  to  the 
logical,  and  simultaneity  to  the  more  mechanical  connection 
of  our  concepts. 

4.  THE  LAW  OF  SUCCESSION.    It  reads,  ' '  Concepts  which 
appear  successively  in  consciousness  reproduce  one  another  in 
the  original  order. "    This  law  may  be  reduced  to  the  former, 
for  concepts  which   succeed  one   another  in  consciousness 
always  remain  an  instant  there  together  and  hence  reproduce 
one  another.   We  shall  consider  this  law  more  fully  further  on. 

The  uniting  of  concepts  in  accordance  with  the  four  laws 
of  reproduction  is  called  THE  ASSOCIATION  OP  IDEAS. 

§  32.  REPRODUCTION  OF  THE  SERIES. 
Fusion,  or  cohesion,  affects  not  only  the  concepts  which 
are  simultaneous,  but  also  those  which  follow  one  another, 


REPRODUCTION  OF  THE  SERIES.  87 

and  gives  rise  thereby  to  the  series  (succession).  When  the 
concept  A  immediately  follows  B,  they  are  for  a  moment 
simultaneously  in  consciousness,  only  A  is  diminishing  in 
intensity,  whereas  B  is  increasing,  therefore  not  the  full 
intensity  of  A  but  only  the  remainder  of  intensity,  a,  unites 
with  the  full  intensity  of  B. 

This  observation  may  be  extended  to  a  whole  series  of 

concepts,  A,  B,  C,  D If  the  succession  is  rapid  enough, 

the  succeeding  concepts,  B,  C,  D ,  will  still  meet  in  con- 
sciousness with  certain  decreasing  remnants  of  the  intensity, 

a,  a1?  a2,  a3 of  the  sinking  A,  and  will  fuse  with  them. 

The  same  holds  regarding  remnants  of  B,  which  fuse  with  all 

following  concepts  in  decreasing  intensity,  b,  b1?  b2,  b3 

When  B  entered  consciousness,  A  was  reduced  to  the  rem- 
nant a;  as  C  entered,  A  was  reduced  to  the  smaller  remnant 
a,,  and  B  to  the  remnant  b;  as  D  entered,  A  was  reduced  to 
remnant  a2,  B  to  b1?  C  to  c,  etc.  We  arrive,  therefore,  at  the 
following  scheme  of  fusions  for  the  successive  instants  of 

time,  in  which  the  single  concepts,  A,  B,  C ,have  reached 

their  highest  degree  of  clearness: — 

1.  A 

2.  a  B 

3.  ax  b  C  whereby:  a  >  a^^  >  a2  >  a^ 

4.  a2  bt  c  D  b  >  bj  >  b2  >  b3 

5.  a  b  c  d  E  c  >  C  >  c 


In  reproduction  the  individual  concepts  become  helps  to 
others  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  fused  with  them  (3  29). 
When  a  concept,  A,  in  decreasing  remnants  of  intensity,  a, 

au  a2,  a3 is  fused  with  other  concepts,  B,  C,  D,  E,  it 

will  indeed  reproduce  all  these  later  concepts,  but  with  un- 
equal rapidity,  for  the  mounting  of  a  reproduced  concept 
depends  upon  the  amount  of  help,  so  far  as  its  rhythm,  or 


88 


EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


time  of  movement,  is  concerned.1)  B,  therefore,  will  first 
appear  in  consciousness,  then,  C,  and  then  somewhat  later,  D, 
and  reach  its  highest  degree  of  clearness;  i.  e. ,  the  series  will 
develop.  In  this  way  the  concepts  appear  gradually  above 
the  threshold,  reach  their  highest  stage  in  consciousness,  and 
then  sink  back  again  towards  the  threshold.  The  following 
scheme  represents  to  the  eye  the  status  of  the  concepts  in  the 
instant  when  A  has  passed  through  all  its  phases  (here  nine), 
and  the  member  E  stands  highest;  i.  e.,  the  series  has 
developed  to  E. 

(Fro.  5.) 


The  members  of  the  series  from  A  to  E  are  sinking;  i.  e., 
losing  intensity;  whereas  those  from  E  to  I  are  rising;  i.  e., 
increasing  in  intensity.  In  the  next  instant  F  reaches  the 
summit  (E  O),  at  a  later  instant,  G,  etc. 

From  these  considerations  arise  the  following  laws  of 
reproduction  for  the  series: 

1.  The  beginning  member  of  the  series  (A)  reproduces 
the  next  following  members  successively  in  the  order  in  which 
the  series  was  originally  conceived,  and  strives  to  raise  each 
concept  to  its  full  original  degree  of  clearness; — the  former, 
because  it  is  fused  with  all  the  succeeding  concepts  in  accord- 
ance with  decreasing  remnants  of  intensity, — the  latter,  be- 

1)  This  principle,  which  is  here  only  casually  introduced,  is 
strictly  proved  by  Herbart  upon  the  basis  of  calculation.  Psychology 
as  a  Science,  I.  §  86-88. 


REPRODUCTION  OF  THE  SERIES.  89 

cause  these  decreasing  remnants  are  fused  with  the  full  inten- 
sity of  all  following  members,  as  is  illustrated  in  the  scheme. 

2.  The  last  member  of   the  series  (E)  reproduces  the 
members  which  have  preceded  it  simultaneously,  but  with 
decreasing  degrees  of  clearness,  because,  with  the  decreasing 
remnants  of   intensity  (d,  c^  b4)  of  the  preceding  members 
(D,  C,  B),  it  is  united  with  its  full  intensity  into  a  composite, 
or  total  concept  (E  d  ct  b2  a^).     The  concepts  here  form  a  coil, 
which  under  certain  circumstances  may  unfold  into  a  series. 

3.  An  intermediate  member  of  the  series  is  to  be  regarded 
as  a  final  member  for  the  members  which  have  preceded,  and 
as  a  beginning  member  for  those  which  follow  it;  it  therefore 
reproduces  simultaneously  the  members  which  precede  it,  and 
successively  those  which  follow. 

The  power  of  the  series  to  unfold  needs  perhaps  to  be  a 
little  more  clearly  explained.  The  energy  of  its  regular  devel- 
opment depends  upon  the  cohesion  among  members;  this  is 
again  conditioned  by  the  number  of  the  members  with  which 
any  member  of  the  series,  e.  g. ,  A,  by  means  of  its  decreasing 
remnants  of  intensity  unites.  Since  these  remnants  continu- 
ally become  less,  one  of  which  must  consequently  become 
zero  (in  the  Figure  a3),  the  number  of  members  which  these 
remnants  unite  with  A  must  be  a  finite  and  comparatively 
small  one.  In  long  series,  the  reproduction  of  the  members 
is  no  longer  governed  by  the  beginning  member,  but  is  trans- 
mitted in  a  wave-like  manner  to  the  end,  by  the  intermediate 
members  of  the  series. 

Remark  1. — The  succession  of  concepts  in  the  series  form,  rests 
upon  the  uniform  decrease  of  the  remnants  with  which  one  member, 
A,  is  fused  with  the  next  following,  and  which  arise  of  themselves  at 
the  successive  conceptions.  But  fusion  according  to  regularly  decreas- 
ing remnants  may  be  brought  about  in  simultaneous  reception  of  a 
number  of  concepts  by  decreasing  grades  of  opposition.  It  is  known, 
e.  g.,  that  the  various  color  qualities,  the  temperatures,  the  degrees  of 


90  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

hardness,  etc.,  evolve  for  our  conception  In  series  according  to  degrees 
of  opposition,  although  they  are,  perhaps,  never  actually  perceived 
In  such  series.  The  sensations  of  smell  and  taste,  with  which  decreas- 
ing degrees  of  opposition  are  not  so  general,  furnish  no  series,  or  only 
iragmentary  ones. 

Remark  2. — The  capacity  of  a  series  for  evolution  is  essentially 
connected  with  the  opposition  of  the  members.  Should  this  fall 
away;  i.  e.,  were  the  members  of  the  series  nearly  alike,  the  de- 
creasing series  of  remnants  of  a  member,  c.  g.,  A,  would  not  be 
brought  about  by  the  following  members,  but  only  in  consequence 
of  duration  by  remote  concepts;  i.  e.,  would  be  only  imperfectly 
carried  out;  and  since  the  rhythm  in  the  running  off  of  the  series 
depends  upon  this  graduated  decrease  in  the  remnants,  the  whole 
series  would  be  almost  instantly  reproduced;  i.  e.,  it  would  not  arrive 
at  evolution.  These  considerations  are  supported  by  experience;  a 
row  of  trees,  of  similar  houses,  of  uniformed  men,  does  not  easily 
arrive  at  evolution  in  reproduction. 


2  33.    SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  SERIES  FORM. 

Since  time  is  the  universal  form  of  mental  life,  concepts 
take  on  the  form  of  the  series  as  an  expression  of  the  develop- 
ment of  the  life  of  the  soul.  In  this  way  the  series  becomes 
an  archetype  of  our  concept-life,  which  in  reality  consists 
only  of  simultaneities  and  series. 

But  the  phenomenon  of  the  series  form  may  in  various 
cases  exhibit  the  following  peculiar  complications: 

1.  When  several  series  differing  in  height,  or  intensity, 
pass  at  the  same  time  through  consciousness,  so  that  their 
equally  numerous  members  unite,  either  through  complica- 
tion or  through  fusion.  In  this  way,  series  of  touch  and 
muscular  sensations  unite  with  sensations  of  sight,  when 
spatial  relations  are  considered;  so  that  which  is  seen  in  a 
drama  unites  with  that  which  is  heard  into  a  succession  of 
scenes;  so  the  school  boy  cons  his  lesson  aloud,  that  what 
is  seen  and  heard  may  combine  with  what  is  thought.  Here 


SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  SERIES  FORM.  91 

the  individual  members  form  compact  unities,  because  they 
arise  from  the  combination  of  the  different  in  kind.  Less 
intimate  is  the  union  between  members  which  results  from 
i\\&  fusion  of  what  are  like  in  kind;  as,  for  example,  where  one 
person  seeks  to  play  several  games  of  chess  at  the  same  time. 

2.  When  the  members  of  a  main  series  are  the  beginning 
points  for  minor  series,  which  either  mediate  the  transition 
between  two  successive  members  of  the  chief  series  by  inter- 
polation, or  which  extend,  as  it  were,  in  a  direction  perpen- 
dicular to  that  of  the  main  series.    The  succession  of  historical 
facts  is  an  example  of  the  first  case,  when  between  the  epochs 
of  the  world's  history  the  special  facts  are  interpolated  one 
by  one;  history  may  also  furnish  us  an  example  of  the  second 
case,  when  the  chronological  order  of  events  branches  off  at 
points  into  synchronological  lines. 

3.  When  several  series  of  concepts  cross  in  a  common  mem- 
ber, whereby  the  chief  series  falters,  because  it  tends  to 
extend  in  each  of  the  minor  series,  while  the  preceding  mem- 
bers of  these  latter  come  cumulatively  into  consciousness,  so 
that  there  arises  about  this  common  member  a  struggle  and 
fluctuation  of  the  concepts.     This  confusion  is  only  overcome 
when  some  one  of  the  many  crossing  series  receives  assist- 
ance, thereby  having  the  course  of  the  reproduction  deter- 
mined in  its  direction.     Thus,  a  narrator  may  pass  from  one 
narration  into  another,  and  the  occurrence  of  some  insignifi- 
cant idea  often  determines  the  direction  of  our  flow  of  repre- 
sentation when  it  is  left  to  itself.     This  falling  together,  or 
confusion  of  several  crossing  series  may  be  avoided,  if  between 
corresponding  members  of  any  two  such  series  cross  series  of 
a  determinate  length  be  formed,  whereby  a  combination  of 
series  in  a  iceb-like  form  arises.     A  series-web  is  a  system  of 
crossed  series  whose  members   are  held   apart   by  means 
of  cross  series.     The  most  perfect  series-web  is  the  concept 
of  space,  extending  in  three  directions. 


92 


EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


4.   When  a  series,  A  B H  «7,  is  conceived  not  only  in 

its  original  but  also  in  the  reverse  direction,  J  H B  A. 

(Compare  the  Fig.  in  §  32. )  In  this  case  the  reproduction  of 
the  two  terminal  members,  A  and  J,  occurs  at  the  same  time, 
and  the  two  approaching  series  interpenetrate  so  that  the 
successive  rise  and  fall  of  the  concepts  passes  over  into  a 
simultaneous  heaving  and  sinking,  in  the  same  way  in  which 
sound  waves  neutralize  each  other  by  interference.  All 
notion  of  space  rests  upon  this  sort  of  series  complication.  U 


1)  The  series  complications  arising  from  a  double-sided  appre- 
hension, after  the  analogy  of  interrupted  sound  waves,  are  most 
remarkable.  In  a  single-sided  apprehension  of  the  series  A  B  C  D  E 
F,  the  members  ABC  must  sink  if  the  members  D  E  F  rise;  in  a 
double-sided  apprehension  where  the  series  runs  off  from  A  to  F  and 
from  F  to  A  at  the  same  time,  ABC  and  D  E  F  should  rise  and  sink 
at  the  same  time,  precisely  like  the  particles  which  lie  between  the 
points  of  condensation  in  the  interrupted  sound  waves.  This  signi- 
fies in  the  case  of  the  concepts  only  so  much — that  the  running  off  of 
the  series  in  one  direction,  with  the  successive  rising  and  sinking  of 
the  members  which  follow  one  after  the  other  is  brought  to  a  stand- 
still, and  has  yielded  to  a  state  of  reciprocal  tension  of  the  con- 
cepts. The  paradoxical  demand  that  all  concepts,  A  B  C  D  E  F, 
regardless  of  their  opposition,  should  simultaneously  increase  in 
intensity,  will  scarcely  be  found  true  in  reality.  The  consequence 
will  rather  be  that  the  concepts  will  be  found  in  a  gentle  and  con- 
stant vibration,  which  assumes  the  character  of  a  stand-still  because 
of  the  like  movement  from  A  to  F,  and  from  F  to  A. 


SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  SERIES  FORM.  93 

Since  the  equipoise  is  complete,  a  pendulum-like  vibra- 
tion of  the  whole  system  takes  place  from  right  to  left,  which 
may  be  read  off  on  the  curve  m  p,  and  whereby  the  axis  O  E 
assumes  the  positions  O  F  and  O  D. 

5.  When  bodily  movements  run  parallel  with  the  members 
of  a  series.  Here,  for  instance,  belong  the  movements  of  the 
organs  of  speech  in  the  reproduction  of  poems  or  of  forms  of 
prayer,  the  movements  of  the  feet  upon  listening  to  rhyth- 
mical music,  and  all  of  those  series  of  concepts  and  movements 
which  have  grown  familiar  to  us  through  frequent  repetition, 
and  upon  which  skill  and  habit  rest.  These  series  run  off 
mechanically  without  any  mediation  of  thought  and  reflection 
(man  as  an  automaton.  Compare  §  35). 

Remark  1. — The  uniting  of  concepts  in  the  series  form  is  of  the 
highest  importance  for  the  development  of  the  life  of  the  soul.  What 
was  formerly  isolated  and  scattered  is  by  this  means  brought  into 
fixed  relations;  each  individual  concept  finds  its  place  in  a  higher, 
well-ordered  whole  where  reproduction  can  reach  it.  Thus  we  find 
our  way  not  only  among  a  multitude  of  objects,  as,  for  example,  the 
manifoldness  presented  by  a  great  building,  such  as  an  exhibition  hall, 
by  a  large  park,  or  a  landscape,  that  is  to  say,  in  spatial  relations; 
but  also  in  those  complicated  masses  of  notions  out  of  which  a  science 
is  built;  i.  e.,  in  logical  relations.!)  Since  on  account  of  the  concen- 
tration of  consciousness  (§  20)  we  are  able  to  survey  but  a  limited  num- 
ber of  concepts  at  one  time.  The  mastery  of  the  wide  territory  of  con- 
cepts which  form  the  potential  consciousness  is  only  possible  when 
the  concepts  are  brought  into  well  united  series,  so  that  we  can  easily 
reach  the  remotest  point  of  a  series  structure  through  the  stimulus 
of  a  beginning  member  without  being  disturbed  by  the  concepts 
which  press  in  from  all  sides.  Where  on  the  contrary,  on  account  of 
a  stereotyped  running  off  of  the  series,  a  fixed  and  unbending  divi- 
sion of  the  concept  structure  is  never  broken  up  by  new  combinations 


1)  "The  placing  of  the  isolated  in  the  series  form  always  holds 
as  the  first  rule  of  mnemonics,  and  in  general  as  a  chief  means  in  the 
economy  of  mental  life.  That  which  remains  isolated — numbers, 
names,  detached  notes — is  soon  forgotten,  and  is  lost  for  our  inner 
development"  (Volkmann). 


94  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

formed  by  means  of  free-mounting  concepts,  there  appears  that  stiff 
pedantry  which  we  not  seldom  see  in  aged  people,  in  copyists  and 
slaves  of  habit,  in  school-men,  and  in  phlegmatic  people,  and  which 
forms  a  striking  contrast  to  the  free  mental  activity  in  women,  chil- 
dren, and  artists. 

Remark  2. — By  means  of  the  series  complex,  violent  struggle  for 
reproduction  is  replaced  by  a  quiet  activity  of  the  concepts,  since  the 
reproduction  proceeds  quietly  now  in  this,  now  in  that  prescribed 
course  through  the  concept  complex.  Through  the  agency  of  the 
nodes,  towards  which  the  series  converge,  consciousness  receives  its 
peculiar  and  permanent  impress;  fcr,  by  them  a  kind  of  centraliza- 
tion of  the  whole  circle  of  thought  is  introduced.  Within  these 
nodes  are  situated  the  favorite  notions,  inclinations,  and  passions  of 
men.  The  nodes  have  themselves  a  further  concentration,  because 
from  them  converge  dominating  series  of  concepts  and  higher  middle 
points.  The  chief  central  point  of  the  whole  is  that  in  which  the  I, 
or  ego,  has  its  seat.  It  remains  only  to  remark  that  neither  the  sub- 
ordinate nodes  nor  the  chief  central  points  have  fixed  positions,  but 
are  subject  to  many  removals  and  fluctuations. 


§  34.   REPRODUCTIONS  AND  SENSATIONS. 

The  fact  of  reproduction  leads  to  the  assumption  of  the 
continued  existence  of  concepts,  even  after  they  have  been 
obscured.  The  reproduced  concept  is,  therefore,  identical 
with  the  original;  i.  e.,  with  the  sensation.  Nevertheless,  it 
is  a  universally  known  fact,  that  in  every  particular  case  we 
can  tell  with  unerring  certainty  whether  a  concept  is  a  sen- 
sation or  a  mere  reproduction.  This  decision  can  not,  at  least 
in  the  simple  sensations,  relate  to  their  content,  since  the 
simple  sensation  is  reproduced  as  it  is  or  not  at  all.  As 
regards  intensity,  a  reproduction  is  indeed  always  weaker 
than  the  sensation;  yet  the  distinguishing  characteristic 
between  the  two  can  not  lie  even  in  this,  for  we  can  very 
well  distinguish  the  gentlest  sensation  from  the  strongest 
reproduction. 


REPRODUCTIONS  AND  SENSATIONS.  95 

But  since  this  distinguishing  characteristic  lies  neither 
in  the  content  nor  the  strength  of  the  concept,  it  can  lie  only 
in  certain  accompanying  mental  states  which  attach  to  the 
immediate  sensation,  but  are  lacking  in  the  reproduction. 
These  are  the  numerous  but  weak  physical  sensations  by 
means  of  which  the  apprehension  of  the  organs  of  sense  in 
the  moment  of  immediate  sensation  is  announced  to  con- 
sciousness, and  which  consist  in  muscular  sensations  and 
their  irradiation  (§  16).  This  is  indeed  a  reproduction  of 
these  accompanying  muscular  sensations,  but  under  the  most 
unfavorable  circumstances.  Since,  individually,  they  are  very 
weak  and  in  their  totality  only  produce  an  obscure  general 
effect;  and,  further,  since  they  find  in  the  body-sensations 
which  are  present  a  strong  and  almost  insurmountable  oppo- 
sition, they  can  not  in  reproduction  be  elevated  into  any 
noticeable  degree  of  clearness.  This  peculiar  coloring  which 
the  sensation  receives  from  the  accompanying  muscular  sen- 
sations may  be  called  the  liveliness  of  the  sensation.  In 
reproduction  this  liveliness  is  generally  lost.1) 

In  certain  cases,  however,  it  may  occur  that  in  the  repro- 
duction of  a  sensation  with  the  accompanying  muscular  sen- 
sations the  original  liveliness  appears  and  the  reproduction 
is  mistaken  for  the  sensation.  This  is  regularly  the  case  in 
the  reproductions  of  the  dream,  where  consciousness  is  freed 
from  opposing  concepts  by  the  physiological  depression,  and 
single  reproduced  concepts  on  this  account  can  rise  to  the 
height  of  their  original  intensity.  It  therefore  happens  that 
in  dreams  we  see  and  hear,  whereas  in  waking  consciousness 
we  merely  represent. 


1)  This  loss  of  liveliness  may  go  so  far  that  the  reproduced  pic- 
tures of  sight  entirely  lose  their  coloring  and  come  into  consciousness 
as  mere  outlines.  Lotze  holds  remembered  images  to  be  entirely 
colorless;  likewise,  also,  Fechner,  who  cites  the  experiences  of  various 
persons  in  this  respect.  Psycho-Physics,  II.,  chap.  42. 


96  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

All  hallucinations  rest  upon  the  confounding  of  the  repro- 
duction with  the  sensation  of  the  waking  consciousness. 
Since  we  project  our  sensations  outwardly  as  perceptions, 
things  are  by  hallucination  apparently  perceived  as  present 
which  are  not  present;  consequently  hallucinations  of  this 
kind,  if  they  become  habitual,  always  lead  to  serious  disturb- 
ance of  the  mental  life,  and  stand  in  close  relation  to  mental 
diseases. 

Remark  1. — Hallucinations  which  appear  as  sense  images  are  to 
be  distinguished  from  illusions  of  the  senses.  In  the  first  the  sense- 
impression  is  entirely  lacking;  in  the  latter  it  is  present,  but  falsely 
interpreted,  as  if,  e.  g.,  one  should  mistake  a  hollow  willow  for  a 
ghost,  or  see  in  the  shadows  of  the  moon,  an  elfin  dance.  He  who 
suffers  from  hallucinations  may  perceive  such  things  without  the 
slightest  sense-impression.  This  kind  of  people  see  sparks  and  fiery 
streaks  before  their  eyes,  they  hear  muffled,  confused  sounds,  which 
seem  now  like  the  thunder  of  cannon,  now  like  the  distant  ringing  of 
bells.  In  later  stages,  where  the  representative  faculty  is  seriously 
attacked,  these  indistinct  impressions  begin  to  take  form,  being  deter- 
mined by  the  momentary  condition  of  the  mind.  The  victim  of  mel- 
ancholy then  sees  gloomy  figures,  frightful  faces,  devilish  forms;  he 
hears  the  voices  of  his  pursuers,  now  in  soft  whispers,  now  in  loud 
tones,  as  they  conspire  to  kill  him  or  to  bring  all  imaginable  torments 
upon  him;  about  him  is  the  odor  of  blood  and  corpses;  in  his  mouth 
he  feels  the  taste  of  deadly  poisons.  The  insane  person,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  often  surrounded  by  the  most  charming  of  pictures.  Splendid 
phenomena  linger  before  his  eyes  and  translate  him  into  a  blessed 
entrancement,  divine  voices  promise  him  happiness,  honor,  and  riches 
(Ricker,  Mental  Disturbances).  Hallucinations  are  not  always  indi- 
cative of  real  mental  diseases;  they  arise  temporarily  with  persons 
who  are  mentally  sound,  in  consequence  of  continuous  mental  excite- 
ment, prolonged  fasting,  or  violent  emotions;  they  may  even  be  arti- 
ficially produced  by  means  of  a  certain  kind  of  skill,  and  then  they 
assume  the  forms  of  visions  and  ecstatic  delights.  For  example,  the 
sight  illusions  of  the  learned  Nikolai,  who  for  days  and  weeks  saw 
all  sorts  of  forms  before  him,  are  well  known. 

Remark  2. — The  sensation  of  physical  excitation  of  the  organs 
varies  in  liveliness  with  the  different  senses.  The  activity  is  greatest 


REPRODUCTION  OF  MOVEMENTS.  97 

in  the  muscular  sensations  themselves,  for  which  therefore  under  nor- 
mal conditions  there  is  a  very  imperfect  reproduction.  The  youth 
can  no  longer  reproduce  the  vital  sensation  of  the  child,  nor  can  the 
person  in  health  reproduce  the  sensations  of  sickness,  and  nothing  is 
so  easily  forgotten  as  bodily  pain  and  physical  pleasure,  however 
intense  they  may  have  originally  been.  The  remembrance  of  the 
most  intense  bodily  pain  is  something  exceedingly  small  in  comparison 
with  the  prick  of  a  pin  (Lotze);  naturally  so,  for  the  intensity  of  the 
pain  is  connected  with  the  effect  of  numberless  elements  of  sensation, 
which  in  themselves  considered  are  weak,  and  which  are  difficult  to 
reproduce.  The  further  one  goes  in  the  series  of  senses  from  the 
lower  to  the  higher,  the  more  secondary  becomes  the  consciousness  of 
the  excitation  of  the  organs,  and  it  disappears  almost  entirely  with 
the  highest  sense,  the  eye.  This  is  shown  by  the  entire  lack  of  tone 
in  the  sensation  of  sight.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  confounding 
of  reproduction  with  sensation  is  easiest  in  the  sense  of  sight,  and 
that  hallucinations  of  an  optical  nature,  i.  e.,  visions,  are  most  com- 
mon. The  sense  of  touch,  on  the  contrary,  seems  almost  closed  to 
hallucinations. 


\  35.  REPRODUCTION  OF  MOVEMENTS. 

While  the  body  of  the  animal,  especially  of  the  lower 
orders,  appears  like  a  machine,  capable  of  motions  of  a  single 
kind  only,  the  human  body  is  an  apparatus  of  motion  which 
under  the  influence  of  continued  exercise  can  be  made  apt  in 
the  production  of  motions  of  the  most  various  kinds.  The 
body  of  the  spider  is  an  apparatus  for  spinning,  that  of  the 
fish  for  swimming,  and  just  as  little  continuous  practice  is 
needed  with  the  one  as  with  the  other  to  make  them  skillful  in 
their  peculiar  arts;  for  the  apparatus  works  of  itself  like  a 
machine,  as  soon  as  it  is  placed  in  the  sphere  for  which  it  was 
designed. 

It  is  otherwise  with  the  child.  The  child  is  far  more 
unskillful  and  helpless  than  the  young  of  the  animal;  the 
simplest  movements  of  seizing  with  the  hand  or  walking  with 
the  feet  must  be  patiently  taught  to  the  infant. 


98  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

On  this  account  it  possesses  the  capacity  of  being  made 
apt  in  movements  and  arts  of  the  greatest  variety.  The 
foot  of  the  infant,  which  kicks  regardless  of  rule,  can  be 
schooled  for  the  graceful  movements  of  the  dance,  of  the 
gymnast,  or  of  the  performer  upon  the  tight  rope;  the 
hand,  which  is  incapable  of  grasping  an  apple,  will  perhaps 
guide  the  pen,  the  chisel,  the  brush,  or  the  bow  of  the  vio- 
lin, with  wonderful  skill.  This  would  be  impossible  were 
the  apparatus  of  motion  in  the  human  body  not  a  universal 
instrument. 

This  apparatus  consists  first  of  muscles,  which  are 
stretched  over  the  joints  of  the  skeleton,  and  by  their  con- 
traction execute  the  movements;  and  then  of  the  motor 
nerves,  which  excite  the  muscles  to  contraction. 

The  actual  contraction  of  the  muscles  is,  however,  a 
change  of  the  muscular  condition,  which  is  announced  to 
consciousness  by  the  muscular  sensations.  To  the  different 
kinds  of  motions  there  correspond  as  many  different  kinds  of 
muscular  sensations.  We  distinguish  the  movements  of  the 
right  arm  from  those  of  the  left,  because  the  respective  mus- 
cular sensations  are  different. 

Since  there  are  many  muscles  in  our  body,  and  since  the 
degree  of  tension  is  constantly  changing,  we  have  at  each 
instant  of  our  existence  innumerable  muscular  sensations, 
which  unite  into  an  obscure  total  sensation,  the  sensation  of 
the  carriage  or  attitude  of  our  body. 

By  means  of  muscular  sensations  we  learn  gradually  to 
execute  the  movements  of  our  body  according  to  design;  i.  e. , 
in  the  manner  which  we  desire,  and  thereby  learn  to  govern 
the  body.  This  comes  in  the  course  of  continuous  attempts. 
The  muscular  sensation  corresponding  to  the  desired  move- 
ment is  reproduced  in  consequence  of  these  attempts,  after 
which  the  nerve  stimulus  associated  with  it  and  the  muscular 
contraction  follow. 


MEMORY.      .  99 

If  a  given  movement  has  occurred  two  or  more  times, 
the  muscular  sensation  becomes  associated  with  the  move- 
ment itself,  and  therefore  secures  the  reproduction  of  the 
movement  by  means  of  the  muscular  sensation. 

In  this  way  muscular  sensations  become  aids  for  the 
reproduction  of  movements.  A  wonderful  activity  of  mem- 
ory is  shown  in  retaining  these  helps  to  reproduction,  on 
account  of  their  great  extent. 

Remark — As  in  the  association  of  concepts,  the  certainty  of  repro- 
duction in  the  connection  of  muscular  sensations  with  movements, 
depends  upon  intimacy  of  the  fusion,  which  in  turn  depends  upon 
the  frequency  of  repetition  of  movements  in  one  and  the  same  sense. 
By  means  of  constant  practice  and  continued  repetition,  man  acquires 
complete  skill  in  various  callings  and  arts,  and  the  respective 
movements  proceed  entirely  automatically,  without  the  aid  of  mental 
activity.  They  occur  also  in  sleep  (somnambulism). 


I  36.  MEMORY. 

That  concepts  are  not  destroyed  by  obscuration,  or  pass- 
ing out  of  consciousness,  is  proved  by  the  fact  of  reproduc- 
tion. But  not  every  reproduction  is  for  this  reason  an  act 
of  memory.  We  expect  of  memory  that  it  will  hold  what 
was  formerly  in  consciousness,  though  displaced,  and,  upon 
given  occasion,  reproduce  it  exactly  as  it  was  originally. 
Memory  is  therefore  the  faculty  of  unaltered  reproduction,  and 
its  characteristic  quality  is  trustworthiness. 

The  trustworthiness  of  memory  will  manifest  itself  in 
holding  firmly  what  was  formerly  simultaneously  or  succes- 
sively in  the  mind;  i.  e.,  in  the  unaltered  reproduction  of  series 
and  groups  of  concepts.  This  holding  of  the  concepts  together 
in  their  original  combinations  is  so  much  the  more  assured  the 
clearer  the  concepts  were  when  they  entered  into  those  com- 
binations. The  trustworthiness  of  memory  depends,  there 


100  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

fore,  upon  the  strength  or  clearness  of  the  original  appre- 
hension, and  upon  the  frequency  of  repetition. 

As  to  the  first  condition,  it  is  important  whether  the 
associated  concepts  were  mounting  or  sinking  when  the  total 
concept  under  consideration  was  formed,  because  upon  this, 
and  the  length  of  time  they  were  in  consciousness  together, 
depends  the  thoroughness  of  their  fusion.  Fleeting  associa- 
tions of  concepts  which  are  sinking  out  of  consciousness  drop 
from  memory,  whereas  the  associations  of  concepts  which  are 
intensified  by  attention  hold  together  intimately.  The  inti- 
macy of  fusion  is  furthered  by  repetition,  since  the  concept 
magnitudes  with  which  the  concepts  fuse  become  greater 
with  each  repetition.  (Repetitio  mater  studiorum. ) 

In  addition  to  trustworthiness,  the  perfection  of  mem- 
ory depends  also  upon  durability,  which  is  equivalent  to 
trustworthiness  for  a  length  of  time;  then  upon  readiness, 
comprehension,  and  utility.  These  three  words  may  be 
examined. 

The  length  of  time  during  which  a  concept  is  held  in 
memory  depends  upon  the  number  and  strength  of  its  asso- 
ciated concepts,  or  helps.  There  is  no  surer  means  of  secur- 
ing concepts  against  forgetfulness  than  to  place  them  in 
connection  with  important  concepts,  which  through  their 
many-sided  and  intimate  complications  form  the  node  points 
of  our  concept  structure.  Even  insignificant  incidents  become 
impressed  on  memory  when  they  stand  in  connection  with 
concept  masses  of  this  sort. 

The  facility  of  memory  depends  upon  the  degree  and 
mobility  of  the  attention,  as  well  as  in  general  upon  that 
freshness  of  apprehension  which  is  partially  connected  with 
physiological  conditions. 

The  comprehension  and  utility  of  memory,  aside  from 
what  has  been  mentioned,  depend  upon  the  harmonious  con- 
struction of  consciousness,  and  therefore  upon  the  reinforce- 


KINDS  OF  MEMORY.  101 

ment  of  the  memory  from  the  side  of  the  understanding  and 
the  imagination. 

o 

Memory  is,  for  the  rest,  not  an  independent  and  real 
faculty  of  the  soul,  but  only  an  abstract  notion  for  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  reproduction  of  concepts  is,  under  given 
circumstances,  brought  to  pass. 

Remark  1. — The  opposite  of  the  memorizing  activity  is  forget- 
fulness.  It  consists  in  the  inability  to  reproduce  a  concept  which  has 
been  in  consciousness;  this  inability  is,  however,  only  relative  and 
transitory,  for  it  rests  upon  unconsciousness,  or  upon  the  lack  of 
effectual  helps  to  reproduction  when  compared  with  the  number  and 
strength  of  opposing  concepts.  If  the  latter  can  in  any  way  be  over- 
come, those  helps  will  be  strong  enough  to  reproduce  the  given  con- 
cept. One  may,  therefore,  say  of  a  concept,  it  is  never  absolutely 
forgotten,  just  as  one  may  say  of  a  ring  which  has  been  thrown  into 
the  sea,  it  is  not  absolutely  lost.  Even  if  the  restoration — there  of 
the  concept,  here  of  the  ring — is  difficult,  it  is  not  impossible.  In 
sleep,  where  the  opposing  concepts  of  the  waking  life  are  removed, 
such  "forgotten  concepts"  often  appear  with  extraordinary  clearness; 
so  also  in  the  condition  of  clairvoyance,  and  in  the  moment  of  death. 
Still  more  favorable  will  the  chances  become  for  the  reproduction  of 
many  a  forgotten  concept  after  the  death  of  the  body. 

Remark  2. — Since  memory  produces  nothing  new,  but  only  the 
old  as  it  has  been  preserved,  it  is  not  surprising  that  productive  spirits 
and  geniuses,  whose  activity  is  directed  to  the  discovery  of  the  new, 
should  often  manifest  weak  memories.  With  them  understanding 
and  imagination  injure  the  memory.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  com- 
mon to  find  men  with  weak  judgment  who  have  faithful  memories. 
In  childhood,  however,  a  good  memory  may  be  taken  as  an  indication 
of  good  mental  gifts. 


§  37.  KINDS  OF  MEMORY. 

Memory  is  in  its  nature  mechanical;  for,  in  the  final 
analysis,  all  noting  and  retaining  rest  upon  a  mechanical 
association  of  concepts,  which  is  independent  of  the  content 
of  that  which  is  to  be  retained.  One  can  impress  things 


102  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

upon  the  memory  from  whose  understanding  one  is  far 
removed;  as,  e.  g.,  is  the  case  with  unmeaning  "learning  by 
heart,"  where  the  learner  does  not  trouble  himself  about  the 
inner  connection  of  what  is  learned.  The  soul  of  mechanical 
memory  is  not  understanding,  but  repetition.  Such  a  mem- 
ory is  true  and  enduring,  but  not  serviceable  enough,  since  it 
not  seldom  refuses  to  act  on  occasion  of  the  slightest  misplace- 
ment of  the  matter  memorized.  (Questioning  in  recitation.) 

It  is  a  fact  that  understanding,  as  insight  into  the  inner 
connection  of  the  matter  memorized,  greatly  facilitates  the 
memorizing.  This  can  probably  only  take  place  where  such 
an  understanding  is  made  possible  by  an  inner,  material  con- 
nection of  the  parts  of  that  which  is  to  be  memorized.  Here 
is  added  to  the  external  association  through  mediate  repro- 
duction (simultaneity  and  succession),  the  inner  association 
through  immediate  reproduction  (sameness  and  similarity  in 
kind),  the  latter  being  more  intimate  and  lasting  in  the  degree 
that  it  is  conditioned,  not  by  the  changes  of  association,  but 
by  the  permanently  remaining  internal  relations  of  the  con- 
tent. In  this  way,  we  note  a  mathematical  proof,  or  grasp 
cause  and  effect  in  history,  or  understand  change  in  the 
course  of  natural  phenomena.  Since  to  understand  is  a 
matter  of  the  understanding,  or  judgment  (judicium),  we  find 
here  a  connection  between  memory  and  understanding,  or 
judgment,  and  this  kind  of  memory  is  called,  accordingly,  the 
judicial  memory.  It  is  distinguished  for  its  serviceability. 

There  is,  finally,  another  kind  of  memory,  which  seeks, 
after  the  manner  of  the  judicial  memory,  to  discover  an  inner 
necessary  relation  between  the  objects  to  be  noted  where 
the  connection  is  purely  accidental.  To  this  end  ingenuity 
is  above  all  necessary,  in  so  far  as  this  is  the  capacity  of  dis- 
covering similarity  between  dissimilar  things.  When  A  and 
B  ("mens"  and  "understanding")  are  two  dissimilar  con- 
cepts (words),  we  may  attempt  by  means  of  a  third  concept 


KINDS  OF  MEMORY.  103 

C  ("man"),  which  may  be  brought  into  relation  with  A  as 
well  as  with  B,  to  unite  intimately  these  two  concepts.  This 
kind  of  memory,  which  needs  the  assistance  of  the  imagina- 
tion, is  called  ingenious  memory.  It  is  distinguished  by  its 
great  compass,  rising  to  an  art  in  mnemonics,  but  also  by  its 
lack  of  readiness. 

Remark  1. — These  three  varieties  of  memory  were  first  distin- 
guished by  Kant.  In  common  life  we  distinguish,  moreover,  a  word  and 
thing  memory,  a  memory  for  persons,  numbers,  colors,  locality,  etc.,  to 
which  may  be  added  a  memory  for  the  qualities  of  wine  and  tea  (wine 
and  tea  tasters),  and  other  similar  special  memories.  These  distinc- 
tions, far  from  answering  to  real  faculties  of  the  soul,  express  only 
the  simple  fact  that  memory  maintains  a  specific  perfection  and  a 
single  direction  in  accordance  with  thorough  training  in  a  favored 
and  one-sided  compass  of  thought. 

Remark  2. — The  ingenious  memory  becomes  mnemonics  when 
these  artificial  links  which  serve  to  bind  the  memorized  matter 
together  are  arranged  according  to  fixed  rule.  Since  between  a  notion 
and  a  number  there  is  no  natural  connection  (Napoleon  I.  could  just 
as  well  have  been  born  in  1770  as  in  1769),  mnemonics  resorts  especi- 
ally to  numbers  in  its  application.  Modern,  mnemonics,  founded  by 
Otto  Reventlow,  and  further  developed  by  Hermann  Kothe,  changes 
numbers  into  words  and  notions  by  a  scheme  which  is  very  easily 
retained  (1  =  t,  d;  2  =  n;  3  =  m;  4  =  r,  q;  5  =  s,  sch;  6  —  b,  p;  7  = 
f,  v;  8  —  h,  ch;  9  =  g,  k;  0  =  1,  z;  vowels  having  no  significance). 
The  year  of  the  death  of  Charlemagne  (814)  is  no  longer  expressed 
by  the  old  symbolic  significance  of  the  number  of  this  year  (hour- 
glass, spear,  and  plow,  as  death,  war,  peace,  and  in  accordance  with 
the  resemblances  in  the  figures  8,  1,  and  4)  but  by  the  word  "Hiiter" 
(protector)  in  the  sense  of  the  foregoing  scheme,  which  is  easily  asso- 
ciated with  Charlemagne  (protector — "Hiiter" — and  increaser  of  the 
empire).  When  the  artificial  links  (the  mnemonic  catch  words)  are 
not  too  far-fetched,  so  that  they  will  easily  occur  to  the  mind  (which 
is  not  the  case  with  Mauerberger's  arrangement  of  the  dates  in  gen- 
eral history),  mnemonics  renders  a  very  considerable  service  in  the 
remembrance  of  numbers  in  history,  geography,  statistics,  physics, 
and  would  seem  to  deserve  greater  regard  from  the  side  of  the  school 
than  has  heretofore  been  accorded  to  it. 


104  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Animals  also  have  memory.  The  dog  recognizes  his  master  evi- 
dently because  he  has  noted  him.  The  memory  of  animals  is  devel- 
oped, however,  mostly  in  a  one-sided  manner.  The  dog  shows  chiefly 
a  good  memory  for  persons;  other  animals,  as,  for  example,  the  migra- 
tory birds,  are  distinguished  by  their  memory  for  locality. 


\  38.  THE  COURSE  OF  DEVELOPMENT  IN  MEMORY. 

Memory  is  the  foundation  for  all  mental  development, 
because  it  unites  into  a  whole  the  successive  elements  of  our 
mental  life,  which  would  otherwise  stand  unrelated.  By 
means  of  memory  any  given  present  of  soul  life  is  brought 
into  contact  with  the  whole  past,  touching  it  on  all  sides  and 
entering  into  reciprocal  relation  with  it.  Without  memory 
our  whole  mental  life  would  be  enclosed  in  the  narrow  circle 
of  thought  which  the  single  moment  brings  with  it,  as  we 
perceive  to  be  mostly  the  case  with  animals,  whose  reflection 
and  effort  to  do  extends  but  very  little  beyond  the  circle  of 
sensations  offered  by  the  senses  at  any  given  moment. 

But  memory  manifests  a  course  of  development  through 
the  various  stages  in  the  life  of  man  which  is  worthy  of 
thought.  The  activity  is  most  gigantic  in  childhood,  where 
the  matter  for  all  following  mental  development  is  garnered 
up  by  the  memory  in  enormous  quantity.  In  the  first  three 
to  five  years,  the  child  learns  to  govern  his  own  body  by  the 
memory-like  retention  of  muscular  sensations  (§  18),  learns  to 
find  his  way  about  in  his  environment,  to  know  numberless 
things,  together  with  their  various  qualities,  and  to  arrange 
them  in  groups  and  series;  he  acquires  the  essential  features 
of  the  grammar  and  vocabulary  of  his  mother  tongue.  One 
may  indeed  say  with  Jean  Paul:  ' '  Man  learns  more  in  the  first 
three  years  of  childhood  than  in  the  three  years  of  college  life. " 

This  astonishing  energy  of  the  memory  holds  also  in  the 
later  years  of  childhood,  and  enables  the  child  to  learn  easily 


COURSE  OF  DEVELOPMENT  IN  MEMORY.  105 

a  second  or  a  third  language,  to  hold  names  and  dates,  and 
to  accommodate  his  body  to  various  arts.  Childhood  is  the 
period  of  rule  for  the  mechanical  memory,  where  the  child 
takes  on  gladly  everything  which  is  offered  without  asking 
about  the  "how,"  or  the  "why." 

With  the  close  of  childhood,  in  the  twelfth  year,  the 
orbis  pictus  of  the  man's  world  of  observation,  except  cer- 
tain additions  reserved  for  a  later  age,  is  closed  and  laid 
down  in  memory;  the  grammar  and  vocabulary  of  the  mother 
tongue  are  learned,  the  child  is  at  home  in  his  environment. 
Colors,  tones,  names,  numbers,  persons,  and  things — all  are 
written  upon  the  tablets  of  the  memory. 

In  youth  the  material  of  memory  experiences  but  little 
enriching  in  regard  to  its  elements,  the  sense  perceptions, 
but  the  more  significant,  however,  are  the  combinations  of 
this  matter  into  new  structures,  on  whose  extension  under- 
standing and  imagination  are  coactive  with  memory.  The 
youth  passes  his  years  in  an  environment  whose  physical 
features  are  already  known,  and  which  presents  to  him  but 
few  new  impressions;  the  further  instruction  which  is  given 
him  is  mostly  based  upon  the  observation  of  the  well  known 
twenty-six  letters  of  the  alphabet  and  upon  the  sounds  of  the 
familiar  tones  of  the  mother  tongue;  but  with  the  aid  of  these 
letters  and  tones  he  is  led  into  the  phas-es  of  the  world's 
history,  and  into  the  phenomena  of  natural  history,  into  nat- 
ural and  other  sciences. 

Memory  is  still  more  stationary  in  the  age  of  manhood. 
The  gathering  time  is  past,  the  period  for  the  free  applica- 
tion in  independent  judgments  and  conclusions  of  what  was 
formerly  gathered  is  at  hand.  In  middle  age  one  learns  a 
new  language  only  with  very  great  difficulty,  retains  names 
and  numbers  only  with  much  labor.  The  decline  of  memory 
in  this  period  is  connected  with  the  decreasing  receptivity 
and  sensitiveness  of  the  nervous  system,  so  that  in  part  the 


106 


EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


long  past  impressions  of  childhood  even  now  make  them- 
selves felt  with  greater  vividness  than  the  newly  gained  per- 
ceptions of  this  period. 

In  old  age  the  activity  of  memory  shows  a  rapid  decline. 
The  old  is  forgotten,  the  new  is  not  retained.  Only  the  most 
important  events,  only  the  concepts  most  frequently  in  con- 
sciousness emerge  like  islands  out  of  the  universal  flood  of 
forgetfulness.  It  is  also  true  that  the  very  aged  man  remem- 
bers the  events  of  his  childhood  more  vividly  than  those 
which  lie  only  a  year  or  two  behind  him. 

These  relations  may  be  presented  to  the  eye  by  the  fol- 
lowing scheme: 

(Fio.  7.) 

1  V, 


60 


70 


IDEAL   COURSE    OP   THE   DEVELOPMENT   OP   MEMORY. 


g  39.  THE  IMAGINATION. 

In  mental  activity  it  often  happens  that  concepts  from 
different  periods  of  time  are,  by  means  of  mediate  and  im- 
mediate reproduction,  associated  in  a  variegated  manner,  so 
that  the  resulting  combinations  no  longer  bear  the  character 
of  a  reproduction  of  the  old,  but  of  a  production  of  the  new. 
We  can  no  longer  ascribe  this  concept  activity  to  the  mem- 
ory, but  must  rather  ascribe  it  to  the  imagination,  to  the 
capacity  for  altered  reproduction. 


THE  IMAGINATION.  107 

That  which  was  a  fault  with  memory,  becomes  a  virtue 
in  the  imagination.  Here  the  concepts  should  not  be  repro- 
duced as  they  were,  but  different.  The  characteristic  prop- 
erty of  imagination  is,  therefore,  originality;  i.  e.,  the  novelty 
of  its  products. 

Imagination  should,  then,  create  the  new.  This  cre- 
ative activity  can  not,  however,  relate  to  the  production  of 
the  simple  elementary  concepts  (sensations),  which  form  the 
material  for  total  concepts  and  for  series;  for  these  sensa- 
tions can  be  produced  anew  only  by  the  senses,  so  that  no 
imagination  can  discover  a  new  color  or  an  unheard  sound, 
or  open  to  him  who  was  blind  from  birth  a  concept  of  the 
differences  of  color.  This  is  the  limitation  of  the  imagination. 

But  a  wide  field  is  open  to  the  imagination  in  the  varia- 
tion of  combinations  which  can  be  formed  from  the  material 
given  by  the  senses,  and  whose  number  is  inexhaustibly 
great.  All  melodies  and  harmonies  consist  of  but  few  tones; 
all  landscapes  are  composed  of  trees,  rivers,  houses,  moun- 
tains, and  valleys;  all  dramas  out  of  certain  characters  and 
situations;  all  words  out  of  some  twenty-six  letters;  no 
phantasy  is  able  to  measure  the  manifoldness  of  music  and 
speech,  to  exhaust  landscapes  and  dramas.  This  is  the  free- 
dom of  the  imagination. 

This  freedom  becomes  unbridled  and  brings  forth  only 
the  hateful,  the  false,  the  quaint,  the  offensive,  when  it  is 
guided  by  no  concept  of  a  particular  purpose.  The  imagina- 
tion of  the  insane,  of  the  dreamer,  and  of  the  child  often  bear 
this  character.  The  control  of  this  activity,  hateful  in  its  law- 
lessness, comes  through  the  understanding,  which  sets  a  limit 
to  its  bounds,  and  a  measure  to  its  excess.  This  imagination 
accompanied  by  understanding  we  call  in  particular  phantasy; 
it  is  this  that  we  admire  in  the  creations  of  nature  and  art. 

The  originality  of  phantasy  manifests  itself,  in  that  it 
alters  the  original  associations  and  series  by  elimination 


108  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

(abstraction),  addition  (determination),  and  uniting  (con- 
struction), wherefore  fancy  has  been  divided  into  the  abstract- 
ing, the  determining,  and  the  constructive  imagination. 

Remark  1. — Upon  the  abstracting  imagination  rests  all  common 
or  general  pictures  in  that  the  peculiar  (individual)  of  a  perception 
is  mixed;  for  example,  "a  house,"  "a  tree,"  "a  man,"  is  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  "this  house,"  "this  tree,"  "this  man."  Such  common 
or  general  pictures  are  transformed  into  general  notions.  Since  in 
the  reproduction  of  a  total  or  combined  concept  the  weaker  single 
concepts  succumb  to  the  opposition  in  consciousness,  reproduction 
shows  a  general  tendency  to  change  our  sense-pictures  into  general 
pictures,  to  generalize  them,  or  to  free  them  from_  their  dependent 
relations.  The  imagination  "clarifies"  its  object,  in  that  it  puri- 
fies it  of  all  sorts  of  attendant  disturbing  contingencies.  The  deter- 
mining imagination  manifests  itself  in  positive  adornments  and 
additions,  which  it  attaches  to  its  object,  which  were  taken  from  real- 
ity. Thus  the  reporter  of  a  fact  may  adorn  it  from  the  stores  of  his 
fancy,  though  at  the  same  time,  thereby  misrepresenting  it;  in  the  same 
way  we  adorn  churches,  dwellings,  and  streets  according  to  the  sug- 
gestions of  fancy;  in  perusing  a  book,  we  read  between  the  lines,  etc. 
The  constructive  imagination  unites  the  functions  of  its  two  prede- 
cessors, in  that  it  both  eliminates  and  adds  to.  It  can,  for  example, 
mutilate  the  human  form  and  replace  the  lacking  parts  by  animal 
organs  (fauns  and  satyrs,  sirens,  furies,  medusa).  If  a  particular 
judgment  underlies  this  activity,  the  so-called  ideals  arise,  in  which 
all  that  disturbs  is  removed,  and  all  that  enhances  is  added.  Thus 
we  idealize  our  friend  by  ignoring  all  his  human  weaknesses,  and  by 
endowing  him  with  perfections  which  he  does  not  possess.  The 
image  which  we  form  of  our  great  men,  of  Schiller  and  Goethe,  of 
Franklin  and  Washington,  is  an  ideal  which  may  be  considerably 
remote  from  nature,  but  which  nobody  will  undertake  to  destroy. 
The  Platonic  Socrates  is  as  much  of  a  beautiful  ideal  as  the  Platonic 
state. 

Remark  2. — Memory  and  imagination  interlace  in  a  manifold  way, 
yet  reciprocally  separate.  The  more  the  mental  activity  in  reproduc- 
tion moves  along  the  old  tracks,  the  more  prominent  does  memory 
become;  the  more  it  moves  in  new  ways  through  the  founding  of  new 
simultaneities  and  successions,  the  more  prominent  will  imagination 
appear.  The  boundary  line  between  the  two  is  not  distinct;  repro- 


SIGNIFICANCE  OF  IMAGINATION.  109 

duced  perceptions  are,  for  the  most  part,  imaginations,  because  inci- 
dents are  always  lacking,  and  since  in  general  altered  reproductions 
have  more  chances  for  themselves  than  the  unaltered. 


\  40.    SIGNIFICANCE  OF  IMAGINATION  FOR  INSTRUCTION 
AND  MORAL  TRAINING. 

Imagination  is  an  exceedingly  important  faculty  of  the 
soul.  It  broadens  our  mental  vision  beyond  the  bounds  of  the 
actual,  drawn  by  observation  and  experience,  into  the  wide 
and  invisible  territory  of  the  possible,  in  that  it  places  us  in 
a  position  in  which  we  never  were,  and  brings  objects  before 
us  which  we  have  never  perceived  with  the  senses. 

In  this  way  it  becomes  the  condition  of  all  progress 
in  mental  culture.  It  is  that  spiritual  power  to  which  all 
instruction  turns,  and  upon  whose  cooperation  the  success  of 
all  instruction  depends.  For  instruction  works,  aside  from 
the  cases  of  sense  demonstration  of  what  is  to  be  presented, 
with  words;  i.  e. ,  with  conventional  signs,  and  expects  that 
the  pupil  will  accompany  these  words  with  his  concepts. 
But  the  things  about  which  these  words  treat  are  new  to  the 
pupil,  since  instruction  desires  to  communicate  what  is  not 
yet  known.  Here  it  is  then  the  business  of  imagination  to 
seek  pictures  in  the  realm  of  the  known,  in  order  to  combine 
from  them  the  concepts  to  be  awakened  by  instruction.  As 
the  type-setter  places  the  needful  type  in  boxes,  in  order  to 
form  words  according  to  the  writing  of  the  manuscript,  so 
imagination  brings  together  from  the  stores  of  memory  the 
pictures  which  instruction  seeks  to  awaken  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  pupil  by  means  of  words.  The  pupil  apprehends 
the  words  of  the  instruction  when  his  imagination  succeeds 
in  illustrating  them  by  corresponding  concept  images.  It  is, 
therefore,  the  imagination  which  mediates  all  apprehension 
in  instruction.  When  it  is  not  in  condition  to  produce  the 


110  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

illustrations  of  the  words  through  their  images  of  perception, 
the  words  are  heard  as  empty  sounds,  and  held  by  the 
mechanical  memory  as  heavy  ballast,  as  is  only  too  often  the 
case  with  that  "learning  by  heart"  which  is  empty  of  thought 
and  concept. 

Remark  1.— The  frequent  failure  of  instruction  lies  mostly  in  the 
excessive  demands  which  it  makes  on  the  pupils'  imagination.  Chil- 
dren who  have  seen  only  the  very  uniform  surroundings  of  their  vil- 
lage, are  desired  in  geographical  instruction  to  imagine  coast  ranges 
of  mountains,  elevated  plateaus,  steppes  and  deserts,  seas  and  lakes, 
wharfs  and  harbors;  those  who  have  seen  only  a  few  domestic  animals 
and  but  few  cultivated  plants,  are  expected  in  zoology  and  botany  to 
supply  a  chaos  of  animal  and  plant  names  with  images  out  of  the 
small  treasures  of  their  imagination;  they  must  accompany  the  gen- 
eral in  his  train  of  triumph  upon  the  Roman  Forum,  and  have  cor- 
rect thought  about  the  civil  war  of  Marius  and  Sulla,  while  their 
store  of  observation  is  supplied  only  by  the  market  place  of  their  lit- 
tle native  village,  and  the  often  pitiable  state  of  a  sorry  political 
community.  1) 

Remark  2. — The  imagination  is  also  very  important  because  it 
determines  in  our  eyes  the  value  or  worthlessness  of  objects,  and  for 
this  reason  influences  the  direction  of  our  desire  and  Will.  By  its 
assistance  the  mind  may  now  adorn,  now  deface  an  object.  When 
the  educator  controls  the  imagination  of  his  pupil,  he  gives  direction 
to  his  Will.  Fill  the  consciousness  of  the  child  with  moral  pictures 
by  means  of  examples  and  stories,  and  his  Will  of  its  own  accord  will 
take  the  direction  of  the  good. 

Remark  3. — The  poisoning  of  the  imagination  by  the  common,  the 
low,  and  the  hateful,  is  the  source  of  the  moral  degeneration  of  the 
children.  It  is  association  and  evil  communication,  and  above  all 
example,  working  with  the  whole  force  of  immediate  sensuousness, 
that  produces  this  infection. 


1)  Now,  for  the  first  time,  has  the  advanced  spirit  of  education 
taken  pity  on  the  poor  children,  by  bringing  before  them  in  natural 
history  either  natural  objects  or  good  pictures  of  them,  and  even  in 
geography  and  history  by  helping  their  "observation"  by  character 
pictures. 


THE  CONCEPT  OF  TIME.  Ill 

\  41.   THE  CONCEPT  OF  TIME. 

Time  rests  upon  alteration  and  change.  Were  there  no 
alteration,  there  would  be  no  time;  but  where  anything 
changes,  time  determinations  appear  at  once,  since  one  state 
appears  as  an  earlier,  the  other  as  a  later. 

If  one  thinks  of  two  changes  A  and  B,  e.  g.,  lightning 
and  thunder,  and  thinks  of  these  separately,  nothing  especial 
is  noted.  But  if  the  thought  passes  from  A  over  to  B;  i.  e., 
if  A  is  still  in  consciousness  when  B  enters,  A  appears  as  pre- 
ceding B,  and  B  as  following  A — A  is  the  earlier,  B  the  later. 

If  this  observation  is  extended  to  several  successively 
entering  and  changing  concepts,  we  get  the  form  of  the 
series.  But  successive  representation  is  not  yet  a  represen- 
tation of  succession.  Animals,  children,  and  even  adults, 
represent  successively  without  having  a  clear  consciousness 
of  succession  in  time.  The  reason  of  this  is  that  in  the  run- 
ning off  of  the  series  A  B  C  D  E  F  G,  the  first  concepts,  A  B 
C,  sink  and  disappear  from  consciousness  while  the  later,  D  E 
F,  enter.  All  the  members  of  the  series,  therefore,  are  at  no 
instant  simultaneously  in  consciousness,  which  is  necessary, 
however,  in  order  to  perceive  their  relation  and  to  be  able  to 
apprehend  them  as  pertaining  to  time. 

In  order  that  the  notion  of  a  time  series  may  arise,  three 
things  are  essential: 

1.  That  all  members  be  simultaneously  present  in  con- 
sciousness with  a  certain  degree  of  clearness. 

2.  That  the  series  unfold  successively. 

3.  That  this  unfolding  can  take  place  only  in  a  single 
direction,  A  G,  and  not  the  reverse,  G  A. 

The  time  series  has  a  beginning  and  an  end,  and  can  not 
be  reversed  without  experiencing  a  destruction  of  its  nature. 
A  melody  cannot  be  sung,  or  the  Lord's  Prayer  prayed  back- 
wards; the  series  of  the  German  Emperors  cannot  be  (me- 
chanically) recited  backwards- 


112  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

In  the  time  series  any  two  members,  therefore  also  the 
beginning  and  the  end  members,  have  a  certain  distance 
between  them,  which  is  measured  by  the  number  of  tran- 
sitions through  which  we  must  pass  in  order  to  get  from  one 
member  to  another.  A  time  which  is  bounded  is  called  a 
time  period. 

The  time  period  is  denned  according  to  kind  and  magni- 
tude; the  former  by  the  content  of  the  members,  the  latter 
by  their  number.  If  one  unites  several  time  series  which, 
having  equal  quantities  of  succession  (weeks,  days,  years), 
are  distinguished  only  by  the  mere  empty  continuation  of 
their  individual  members,  then  the  differing  content  of  the 
various  coinciding  members  will  be  mutually  obscured,  and 
the  mere  quantity  of  succession  in  the  changing  members 
will  come  to  consciousness.  Such  a  time  series  of  definite 
length  and  indefinite  content  is  called  an  empty  time  period; 
e.  g. ,  a  year. 

The  undefined  members  of  this  empty  time  period  are 
the  empty  time  points.  Different  empty  time  periods  are 
distinguished  by  the  number  of  their  time  points.  If  these 
are  placed  parallel,  one  will  extend  beyond  the  other.  In 
this  way  arises  the  possibility  of  the  continuance  of  time 
points  in  both  directions,  and,  since  this  possibility  has  no 
bounds,  we  arrive  at  the  conception  of  an  empty  time  line, 
extending  in  the  forward  direction  (future)  and  backward 
(past),  without  limit;  i.  e. ,  to  a  conception  of  unending  time, 
or  infinity. 

Remark  1. — An  object  appears  to  be  in  time  when  it  is  thought 
as  a  member  of  a  time  series,  even  though  the  series  be  empty. 
Objectively  considered,  a  fixed  place  in  the  infinitely  extended  time 
line  belongs  to  it,  this  place  being  determined  by  two  time  points,  one 
of  which  immediately  precedes,  and  the  other  immediately  follows  it. 
Since  between  any  two  members  of  a  time  series  already  formed, 
other  time  series  may  be  interpolated;  e.  g.,  series  of  seconds  between 
the  minutes  of  an  hour,  the  empty  time  line  becomes  a  continuity, 


THE  CONCEPT  OF  SPACE.  113 

and  is  subject  to  all  the  contradictions  pertaining  to  changeable  mag- 
nitudes. (See  the  author's  "Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Philosophy," 
§26.) 

Remark  2. — Time  is  objectively  measured  by  numbering  changes 
which  repeat  themselves  with  perfect  exactness;  as,  for  example, 
the  vibrations  of  a  pendulum  or  the  rotation  of  the  earth  upon 
its  axis.  Time  appears  here  as  the  multiplier  of  change.  The 
subjective  estimation  of  time  varies  as  regards  that  which  is  passing 
and  that  which  is  already  past.  The  more  energetically  the  concept 
series  run  off,  and  the  less  they  are  separated  into  parts  by  interrup- 
tions and  pauses,  the  briefer  the  passing  time  appears.  The  change 
is  indeed  great  here,  but  we  do  not  count  the  individual  changing 
elements.  The  clock  does  not  strike  the  hour  for  the  busy  or  the 
happy.  The  more  the  series  are  broken  up  and  interrupted,  the  more 
we  are  warned  of  the  flight  of  time;  as,  e.  g.,  in  the  state  of  waiting, 
where  each  series  proves  too  short  to  end  in  the  concept  of  the  expected 
object,  and  must  therefore  be  continually  extended;  or  in  that  pain- 
ful state  where,  on  the  contrary,  we  must  bear  the  extended  series  of 
unpleasant  sensations,  which  we  vainly  seek  to  break  off;  or  finally, 
in  the  state  of  ennui,  where  the  flow  of  representation  is  continually 
interrupted  for  lack  of  a  significant  content.  In  all  of  these  cases 
there  are  many  interruptions,  which  produce  the  semblance  of  length- 
ened time.  This  holds  only  for  the  immediate  present,  not  for  the 
reproduction  of  a  time  series  already  past;  for  the  reproduction  of 
the  insignificant  and  even  the  painful  does  not  occur  in  detail,  hence 
those  interruptions  do  not  arise  in  the  remembrance  of  times  past. 
Time  periods  already  past  appear  the  longer,  the  more  they  are  filled 
with  significant  concepts:  A  busy  day,  a  week  full  of  events,  a  life 
rich  in  deeds  (Alexander  the  Great,  who  died  in  his  33d  year)  appears 
long  to  us,  because  in  these  time  series  many  members  may  be  dis- 
tinguished even  for  memory.  To  sink  away  and  be  forgotten  is  the 
fate  of  the  insignificant.  Hours  which  in  their  course  seemed  days 
to  us  on  account  of  their  ennui,  become  mere  moments  in  memory. 
Man  ages  when  events  occur  rapidly  to  him. 


I  42.  THE  CONCEPT  OF  SPACE.  THE  SPACE  SERIES. 

It  is  a  fact  that  external  things  announce  themselves  to 
us  as  in  certain  determinate  spatial  relations,  and  that  the 


114  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

fixing  of  these  spatial  relations  does  not  rest  with  our  sub- 
jective caprice,  but  belongs  peculiarly  to  the  objects  them- 
selves; for  it  does  not  rest  with  us  to  regard  the  near  as  the 
remote,  the  large  as  the  small,  or  the  reverse. 

But  though  spatial  relations  are  given  with  sense-per- 
ception, they  do  not,  on  this  account,  lie  complete  and  per- 
fect for  the  mind  in  sense  impressions.  The  various  excita- 
tions of  the  retina,  which  together  comprise  the  retinal 
image,  excite  in  the  soul  only  the  concept  of  the  colored  and 
the  lighted;  they  betray  nothing  of  the  spatial  juxtaposition 
in  which  the  things  of  the  external  world  or  the  points  of 
the  retina  affected  by  them  stand.  In  the  separate  sensa- 
tions A  and  B,  there  is  no  indication  that  the  things  a  and  b 
are  neighbors. 

That  which  does  not  lie  in  sensations  taken  singly  may 

lie  in  their  combination.  True,  if  the  concepts  A  B J 

are  taken  as  strictly  simultaneous,  a  total  concept  would  be 
formed  from  them  in  which  no  trace  of  separation  would  be 
contained,  just  as  the  tones  of  an  accord  furnish  no  spatial 
notion.  While,  therefore,  ABCDEFGHIJ  are  present 
in  consciousness  as  a  total  concept,  the  individual  concepts 
unfold  in  the  series  form.  In  reality,  a  successive  survey  of 
what  is  simultaneously  present  takes  place  in  each  spatial 
apprehension. 

Should  the  unfolding  of  the  series  occur  only  in  one 
direction,  A  J,  the  spatial  juxtaposition  would  be  conceived 
as  a  succession  in  time.  This  really  occurs,  when  we,  e.  g. , 
pass  through  a  picture  gallery  in  one  direction  only,  or  when 
we  ride  along  the  banks  of  a  river  in  only  one  direction. 

Spatial  juxtaposition,  however,  allows  of  apprehension 
in  a  reverse  order,  J  A,  which,  with  a  pure  time  object,  e.  g., 
a  melody,  would  not  be  possible.  We  execute  the  reverse 
series  when  we  move  the  hand  forward  and  back  over  the 
surface  or  edges  of  an  object.  But  in  this  the  process  of 


THE  CONCEPT  OF  SPACE.  115 

reproduction  is  essentially  altered.  Since  the  end  members 
of  the  series,  A  and  J,  rise  in  consciousness,  and  the  series,  A 

B  C . .  . .  and  J  I  H approach,  the  development  of  these 

series  is  transformed  into  a  stand-still,  and  since,  now,  the 
distinctions  before  and  after  are  eliminated,  the  time  series 
of  succession  is  changed  into  one  of  spatial  juxtaposition; 
i.  e. ,  a  space  series  arises  from  a  time  series.  (Compare  §  33, 
No.  4.)  Every  intermediate  member  of  this  series,  as  E, 
appears  between  F  and  D,  then  G-  and  C,  etc. ;  in  short,  from 
this  point  the  series  seeks  to  unfold  in  both  directions,  and 
the  space  series  is  distinguished  from  the  time  series  in  that 
it  has  no  earlier  or  later  members,  and  has  not  one  beginning 
and  one  end,  but  two  beginnings  and  two  ends. 

The  space  series  is  determined  as  to  kind  and  as  to  mag- 
nitude; first,  by  the  content  of  the  members,  and  second,  by 
their  number.  In  uniting  a  number  of  equally  long  space  series, 
the  opposing  content  of  the  various  members  becomes  obscure, 
and  only  the  form  of  juxtaposition,  i.  e.,  the  multiplicity  or 
mere  number  of  the  members,  remains.  In  this  way  we 
reach  the  notion  of  the  empty  space  series  of  determined 
length,  or  the  empty  extension  of  space,  in  which  the  place 
of  the  obscured  members  is  taken  by  nerve  space  points.  By 
thinking  these  points  indefinitely  either  way,  the  notion  of  a 
line  extending  infinitely  in  both  directions  arises. 

Remark  1. — Space  has  also  another  development  which  is  lacking 
with  time.  Whenever  two  time  series  come  together  at  a  point,  the 
remaining  points  of  the  two  series  coincide;  i.  e.,  the  time  series  has 
only  one  dimension,  which  is  indicated  by  the  terms  before  and  after. 
It  is  otherwise  with  space.  Two  space  lines  may  cross  at  a  point 
without  coinciding,  because  their  respective  members  are  held  apart 
by  cross  series  (I  33,  No.  3).  We  here  attain  the  notion  angle,  as  the 
deviation  of  two  lines,  as  well  as  that  of  the  surface  as  a  web  of  space 
series,  which  are  distingushed  by  a  double  lateral  opposition  (right 
and  left,  above  and  below).  To  the  two  dimensions  of  the  surface 
there  is  added  a  third,  since  at  all  points  of  the  plane  perpend'cular 


116  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

lines  may  be  constructed,  all  of  whose  points  have  the  same  lateral 
opposition  found  in  the  surface,  and  also  a  third  lateral  opposition, 
viz.,  that  of  front  and  back. 

Remark  2. — A  bounded  plane  is  a  figure.  It  is  determined  by  the 
course  of  the  boundary.  This  is  not  in  itself  something  visible,  but 
only  a  relation  of  two  visible  things;  i.  e.,  two  colors  or  two  degrees 
of  illumination.  The  sharper  the  contrast  between  the  two  colors  or 
illuminations  (black  upon  white,  or  white  upon  black),  the  more  dis- 
tinctly does  the  figure  stand  out  against  its  background.  The  space 
series  which  proceed  from  the  interior  of  the  figure  are  broken  at  its 
periphery;  the  eye  runs  along  the  boundary,  and  the  ease  with  which 
it  follows  the  curves  or  changes  at  the  angles  of  the  polygon  at  reg- 
ular intervals,  conditions  the  aesthetic  pleasure  which  is  connected 
with  the  apprehension  of  the  boundary  of  surfaces. 


5  43.  EXPERIENCE  IN  SPACE. 

It  is  through  the  assistance  of  the  senses  of  sight  and 
touch  that  we  gain  experience  in  space.  With  both  senses 
we  come  upon  the  surface-like  extension  of  the  peripheral 
ends  of  the  sensory  nerves, — in  the  one  case  upon  the  retina, 
in  the  other  upon  the  skin,  and  note  the  transmission  of  the 
stimuli  over  insulated  primitive  fibers  as  favorable  conditions 
for  an  apprehension  of  space. 

But  the  surface-like  arrangement  of  simultaneous  nerve 
stimuli  is  in  itself  not  a  cause  of  the  apprehension  of  space 
by  the  mind,  as  it  would  be,  perhaps,  in  the  case  of  an  ex- 
ternal observer.  Not  simply  because  the  stimuli  are  spatially 
arranged  upon  the  retina  and  the  skin  does  the  soul  perceive 
the  spatial,  but  because  their  spatial  arrangement  favors  a 
double-sided  reproduction,  the  real  condition  of  space  appre- 
hension, and  because  the  perceived  difference  in  space  is 
associated  with  certain  local  signs. 

Our  experience  of  space  is  chiefly  gained  through  the 
eye,  and  its  great  mobility.  Our  eye  is,  at  any  given  instant, 


EXPERIENCE  IN  SPACE.  117 

directed  towards  a  single  point  only  in  the  field  of  vision; 
viz.,  toward  that  whose  line  of  vision  passes  through  the 
center  of  the  retina,  the  point  of  greatest  clearness.  The 
neighboring  points  in  the  field  of  vision  mirror  themselves 
upon  side  points  of  the  retina,  but  with  diminished  distinct- 
ness. If  the  attention  is  to  be  directed  to  them,  the  eye  must 
be  turned,  so  that  one  after  another  they  fall  upon  the  point 
of  most  distinct  vision,  which  will  occur  without  assistance 
of  the  Will,  probably  through  reflex  activity.  But  if  the  axis 
of  vision  moves  to  and  fro  along  a  line  in  the  field  of  vision, 
a  space  series  is  produced  in  the  soul,  in  the  way  which  is  ex- 
plained and  illustrated  in  ?  33. 

If  the  eye  is  turned  to  another  field  of  vision,  a  new  space 
series  of  another  content,  but  with  the  same  length  position 
in  the  field  of  vision,  will  be  produced  with  analogous  turning 
of  the  eyeball;  and  if  this  process  is  frequently  repeated, 
there  will  arise  out  of  the  many  equally  long  and  similarly 
lying  space  series  of  different  contents,  the  idea  of  an  empty 
space  (§  36).  With  this  notion  of  an  empty  space  will  be  asso- 
ciated a  sum  of  muscular  sensations,  which  correspond  to  just 
this  movement  of  the  eyeball,  and  which,  as  local  signs,  give 
us  the  ability,  in  the  future,  to  measure  the  magnitude  and 
position  of  these  lines  in  the  field  of  vision,  without  having 
first  specifically  to  investigate  the  multitude  of  things  in 
juxtaposition.1)  Thus  the  notions  of  particular  distances, 
directions,  and  positions  in  the  field  of  vision  are  associated 
with  the  muscular  sensations  which  answer  to  the  various 
lateral  and  vertical  movements  of  the  eyeball. 

With  the  perception  peculiar  to  each  point  of  the  retina, 
there  may,  along  with  the  objective  determinations  of  the 


1)  Direct  experiments  prove  that  a  turning  of  the  eyeball  to  the 
extent  of  about  one  minute  of  angular  space  can  be  distinguished. 
This  smallest  perceptible  movement  corresponds  to  the  smallest  per- 
ceptible retinal  distance.  (Wundt  in  Pogg.  Ann.,  1862,  No.  8,  p.  626.) 


118  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

same  (color  and  light),  be  associated  even  a  secondary  deter- 
mination, whose  content  does  not  arise  at  all  from  the  char- 
acter of  the  light  stimulus,  but  from  the  position  of  the  affected 
point  in  the  retina,  and  which,  therefore,  gives  evidence  of 
this  position  as  local  sign.  This  is  analogous  to  the  percep- 
tion of  point  on  the  skin  through  touch  (§  20).  Therefore  even 
with  a  uniformly  lighted  field  of  vision,  yes,  even  with  closed 
eyes,  we  picture  the  sum  of  similar  external  or  internal  sen- 
sations to  flow  together  into  a  single  intensive  impression.  D 

The  sense  of  touch  works  in  a  manner  entirely  analogous 
to  that  of  sight.  But  it  has  still  another  function,  viz. ,  to 
bring  to  our  consciousness,  through  the  space  series  extend- 
ing from  the  body,  the  depth  of  the  field  of  vision,  thereby 
supporting  and  completing  the  apprehension  of  the  eye. 
For  the  eye  the  field  of  vision  is  a  surface,  without  any 
depth,  yes,  even  without  distance  of  the  various  points  from 
the  eye.2' 

It  is  the  sense  of  touch  which  first  shows  us  the  unequal 
distances  between  the  body  as  the  starting  point  for  the  esti- 
mation of  distance,  and  various  points  of  the  field  of  vision 
perceived  by  the  eye,  and  helps  us  to  the  consciousness  that  the 
surface  which  we  see  does  not  immediately  touch  our  body, 
but  lies  remote  from  us.  Thus  we  literally  push  the  surface- 
like  field  of  vision  away  from  the  body  by  means  of  the  hand; 
and  the  basis  for  the  notion  of  the  third  dimension  of  space, 
DEPTH,  is  laid. 

1)  In  narcotic  states  produced  by  ether  or  chloroform,  or  by  the 
smoking  of  hashish,  and  in  certain  brain  diseases,  the  disappearance 
of  the  muscular  sensation  is  accompanied  by  the  expansion  of  light- 
impressions  into  a  surface.  (See  Fechner's  Psycho-Physics,  II.,  p.323.) 

2)  The  patient,  born  blind,  who  was  operated  upon  by  Chesseldon 
(see  the  fine  analysis  of  this  case  by  Drobisch,  Emp.  Psych.,  205), 
had,  after  the  operation,  the  sensation  that  all  objects  touched  his 
eyes,  just  as  in  feeling  they  did  his  skin.  There  was  no  reason  appar- 
ent for  regarding  them  as  at  a  distance. 


EXPERIENCE  IN  SPACE.  119 

As  soon  as  the  notion  of  depth  is  awakened  through 
touch,  the  eye  begins  to  observe  the  differences  by  means  of 
which  the  unequal  lengths  of  the  radii  proceeding  from  the 
eye  to  individual  points  in  the  field  of  vision  are  indicated. 
Such  indications  are  not  lacking  even  for  monocular  vision. 
Among  these  is  the  accommodation  of  the  eye  for  distance, 
which  is  announced  to  us  by  obscure  muscular  sensations, 
though  they  escape  us  for  great  distances, — further,  the 
decreasing  magnitude  of  the  angle  of  vision  with  increasing 
distance,  observed  in  an  object  of  constant  magnitude,  and 
upon  which  rests  the  linear  perspective  for  our  eye;  finally 
modifications  in  the  intensity  and  quality  of  the  illumination 
which  are  likewise  affected  by  distance. 

In  addition  to  these  indications,  we  have  the  muscular 
sensation  of  the  convergence  of  the  axes  of  vision  in  binocular 
vision,  which  latter  is  greater  for  adjacent  than  for  remote 
points,1)  then  the  production  of  incongruent  double  pictures 
in  the  two  eyes,  which  produce  the  peculiar  effect  observed 
in  using  the  stereoscope.  Simple  vision  occurs  only  when  the 
images  of  a  point  in  space  fall  in  both  eyes  upon  the  so-called 
identical  retinal  spots.  The  totality  of  those  points  in  space 
for  which  this  condition  occurs  in  any  given  fixed  position  of 
the  axes  of  vision,  is  called  the  horopter.  In  so  far  as  a  solid 
extended  object  with  its  various  dimensions  deviates  from 
the  plane  of  the  horopter,  it  is  seen  double;  the  two  images 


1)  Trigonometry  follows  the  method  of  the  eye  in  reckoning  the 
remoteness  of  points  in  space.  It,  too,  uses  abase  line,  analogous  to 
the  distance  between  the  eyes,  and  takes  account  of  the  angles. 
Recently  men  have  applied  the  principle  of  accommodation,  as  found 
in  monocular  vision  for  the  estimation  of  distance,  to  the  construc- 
tion'of  instruments  which  give  the  distance  of  a  remote  point  by 
simple  inspection.  In  using  these  instruments,  the  distance  of  the 
object  is  estimated  by  the  accommodation  of  the  field  glass  effected 
by  the  moving  of  lenses.  [See  article,  "Measure  of  Distance  With- 
out Base-Lines  and  Measurement  of  Angles,"  by  Dr.  Emsmann  and 
S.  Merz  in  Poggendorff's  Annals,  1865,  Nos.  2  and  6.  (Distanzmesser 
ohne  Standlinien  und  Winkelmessung,  Poggendorff's  Annalen.)] 


120  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY, 

coincide  only  imperfectly  for  our  perception,  and  produce, 
therefore,  the  impression  of  solidity.  D 

These  optical  indications  of  the  depth  of  the  field  of  vis- 
ion lose  their  validity  when  the  objects  are  too  far  removed; 
for  then  the  differences  of  accommodation,  of  the  conver- 
gence of  the  axes  of  vision,  and  of  the  horopter,  as  well  as 
the  control  of  the  sense  of  touch,  all  vanish.  In  such  cases 
we  locate  the  objects  seen,  in  obedience  to  universal  habit, 
as  external  to  the  eye  in  outer  space,  indeed,  but  at  equal  dis- 
tances from  the  eye;  that  is,  we  project  them  upon  the  inner 
surface  of  an  imagined  sphere,  of  uncertain  remoteness. 

Remark. — When  we  compare  the  two  space  developing  senses, 
sight  and  touch,  with  respect  to  their  efficiency,  we  find  that  for  the 
apprehension  of  surfaces  the  eye  is  far  superior  to  the  sense  of  touch, 
as  it  is  also  for  the  development  of  the  notion  of  time.  Children 
begin  to  observe  the  relations  of  things  by  means  of  the  eye  before 
they  have  learned  to  use  the  hand.  But  in  regard  to  the  apprehen- 
sion of  the  extended  nature  of  bodies,  the  sense  of  touch  is  superior 
to  that  of  sight;  it  is  even  a  question  whether  the  eye  in  itself  with- 
out the  assistance  of  touch,  would  obtain  the  dimension  of  space,  for 
the  means  at  the  command  of  the  eye  in  this  respect  already  presup- 
pose the  notion  of  depth.  Among  these  means  Wundt  (Bettrage  zur 
Tlieorie  der  Sinneswahrnehmungen — Contributions  to  the  Theory  of 
Sense-Perception)  has  emphasized  one  which  is  calculated  to  estab- 
lish a  perception  of  depth  through  the  eye  alone,  and  to  supplant  the 
hand.  It  is  the  angle  inclosed  by  the  axis  of  vision  and  the  vertical 
axis  of  the  body.  It  is  doubtless  a  fact  that  through  muscular  sen- 
sations we  are  conscious  of  the  elevation  and  depression  of  view 
which  correspond  to  the  angle  named,  but  their  significance  in  regard 
to  the  depth  of  the  space  before  us,  already  presupposes  the  idea  of 
the  third  dimension  in  space.  This  notion  can  be  fully  revealed  only 

1)  With  the  stereoscope  the  incongruence  of  the  retinal  images 
occurs  also  externally  in  the  photographs,  of  which  each  is  especially 
calculated  for  one  eye.  Briicke  has  given  the  following  explanation 
of  the  effect  of  the  stereoscope  in  regard  to  the  apparent  solidity  of 
the  objects  represented.  He  says  it  rests  upon  a  series  of  altera- 
tions in  the  angle  of  convergence  of  our  lines  of  vision,  by  means  of 
which  we  make  the  formerly  existing  double  images  simple,  and  then 
ascribe  to  the  objects  a  different  remoteness  in  space. 


CONCEPTS  AS  PSYCHICAL  POWERS.  121 

by  the  hand  when  it  gives  us  concepts  of  space  series  extending  in 
any  direction  from  a  point  in  the  field  of  vision. 


§  44.  CONCEPTS  AS  PSYCHICAL  POWERS.  PSYCHOLOGICAL 
CULTURE. 

The  arrest,  obscuration,  and  reproduction  of  concepts 
show  us  that  one  and  the  same  concept,  without  experiencing 
any  qualitative  change  in  its  content,  may  appear  in  vari- 
ous states,  which  are  severally  distinguished  by  a  greater 
or  less  degree  of  vividness  or  clearness.  "Arrest"  is  a 
reduced  degree  of  vividness,  which  we  think  of,  figuratively, 
as  depression  toward  the  "threshold  of  consciousness;" 
obscuration  is  total  arrest,  whereby  the  concept,  sinking  ever 
lower,  falls  below  the  threshold  of  consciousness.  Absence 
of  arrest,  or  freedom,  is  the  highest  degree  of  vividness  to 
which  a  concept  can  arrive,  and  which  it  would  assume  should 
all  its  opposing  concepts  vanish,  so  that  it  alone  would  dom- 
inate our  consciousness. 

If  a  newly  entering  concept,  A,  is  to  reach  any  assign- 
able degree  of  clearness,  it  must  be  strong  enough  to  over- 
come the  resistance  of  any  opposing  concepts  which  may  be 
present  to  consciousness.  There  will  never  be  a  lack  of  such 
antagonistic  concepts,  for  aside  from  all  sense-perceptions 
and  reproductions,  all  organic  changes  of  our  body  in  the 
form  of  general  and  vital  sensations  are  reflected  in  our  con- 
sciousness and  constantly  occupy  it. 

If  we  posit  the  total  power  with  which  a  vital  sensation 
resists  any  opposing  concepts  seeking  recognition  in  con- 
sciousness as  equal  to  X,  then  any  entering  concept  can 
maintain  itself  in  consciousness,  only  as  it  is  able  to  over- 
come the  resistance  X.  But  even  in  this  case,  it  will  lose  a 
portion  of  its  intensity  or  strength  through  arrest  from  the 
side  of  the  vital  sensation;  it  will  soon  even  succumb  to  this 


122  EMPIRICAL   PSYCHOLOGY. 

arrest  if  it  is  a  reproduction,  since  the  vital  sensation  is  con- 
stantly renewed  on  account  of  the  continuous  organic  nerve 
excitation,  thereby  causing  constant  fresh  arrest,  but  the 
vital  sensation  experiences  no  detrimental  arrest  itself. 

It  is  otherwise  with  a  sense-perception  to  which  we  wholly 
yield;  this  does,  indeed,  experience  arrest  from  the  side  of 
vital  sensation;  but  whatever  it  may  lose  in  intensity  by 
arrest  is  restored  through  the  continuation  of  the  nerve  exci- 
tation. Experience  shows  us,  in  fact,  that  only  sense-per- 
ceptions (sensations)  maintain  themselves  for  a  considerable 
time  at  a  certain  degree  of  intensity,  and  that  only  these 
can  be  elevated  to  a  state  of  freedom  from  arrest. 

Similar  to  sense-perceptions  in  intensity  are  those  con- 
cepts for  which  the  sense-perceptions  present  act  as  aids  to 
reproduction,  thus  resisting  their  arrest.  These  also  maintain 
themselves  in  consciousness  for  long  periods.  Thus  the  image 
of  our  departed  friend  stands  vividly  before  the  mind,  because 
the  sense-perception  of  our  surroundings  constantly  reminds 
us  of  him. 

Then  come  those  concepts  to  which  an  extended  circle 
of  aids  to  reproduction  stands  at  command,  because  they  are 
"old  concepts"  and  have  therefore  been  frequently  in  con- 
sciousness with  many  other  concepts.  The  man  of  thought,  or 
of  passion,  or  the  insane  man,  is  able  to  busy  himself  with  con- 
cepts which  are  unrelated  to  the  sphere  of  sense  about  him. 

Remark  1. — The  consciousness  of  the  infant  is  a  chaos  of  mani- 
fold, opposed,  and  disconnected  images;  a  chaos  which  approaches 
absence  of  consciousness.  Within  this  chaos  arise  first  points  of 
crystallization  of  individual  but  stronger  sensations  which  recipro- 
cally unite.  "Every  group  of  concepts  thus  united  may  be  regarded 
as  an  element  of  mental  culture."  (Volkmann.)  With  this  all-sided 
uniting  of  concepts  the  process  of  mental  growth  begins,  and  really 
never  closes  during  life,  for  there  is  always  something  to  be  added  to 
the  concept  structure  already  formed,  something  to  be  readjusted, 
something  new  to  be  connected.  The  slow  and  stable  manner  in 


APPERCEPTION.  123 

which  this  process  is  completed  in  man  marks  the  noble  superiority 
of  human  nature  in  contrast  with  the  impetuosity,  the  one-sidedness, 
the  blindness,  and  passion  of  the  mental  life  of  animals,  which  remains 
confined  in  a  narrow  compass  of  sensations  and  concepts  during  life, 
without  finding  the  crystallizing  points  for  an  all-sided  grouping  and 
uniting  of  concepts.  "In  the  apprehension  of  the  animal,  there  is 
scarcely  anything  but  the  homogeneous;  whereas  with  man  the  hetero- 
geneous abounds.  On  this  account,  the  animal  is  quickly  developed, 
while  man  delays The  development  of  the  animal  is  tumul- 
tuous; almost  everything  simultaneous  is  arrested,  since  it  mostly  con- 
tains only  notions  which  are  opposed,  and  the  later  moment  finds 
only  fragments  of  what  was  present  at  the  earlier.  But  the  stream 
of  human  mental  development  is  broader;  with  man,  the  most  man- 
ifold threads  of  thought  progress  simultaneously,  and  for  this  reason 
become  interwoven"  (Volkmann.) 

Remark  2. — A  concept  does  not  pass  into  pure  nothing  through 
obscuration,  but  passes  from  the  actuality  of  presence  in  conscious- 
ness to  the  possibility  of  being  recalled  to  consciousness.  This  is  the 
law  of  the  continued  existence  of  concepts,  which  is  analogous  to  the 
law  of  inertia  of  bodies  once  set  in  motion.  As  in  the  latter,  motion 
would  continue  infinitely  unless  overcome  by  resistance,  so  also  would 
a  concept  continue  in  the  soul  forever  with  an  even  intensity,  did  not 
opposing  concepts  arrest  it.  In  reproduction  this  opposition  is  over- 
come, and  the  concept  is  lifted  from  its  arrested  into  its  free  state. 


2  45.  APPERCEPTION. 

Obscured  concepts  are  not  wholly  lost,  but  may  be  repro- 
duced at  any  moment.  From  the  unnumbered  store  of  obscure 
concepts  which  we  carry  about  with  us,  are  reproduced,  now 
these,  now  those  elements,  according  as  they  find  assistance 
in  the  concepts  already  appearing  in  consciousness.  (3  44.) 
Every  newly  entering  concept  seeks,  in  accordance  with  the 
laws  of  reproduction,  to  bring  with  it  a  certain  group  of 
similar  or  related  concepts;  if  these  older  reproduced  con- 
cepts are  sufficiently  strong,  the  new  and  just  entering  con- 
cept must  submit  to  a  modification  through  them — they  enter 


124  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

as  diff erent  from  what  they  would  be,  were  those  older  concepts 
not  present.  The  transformation  of  a  newer  (weaker)  concept 
by  means  of  an  older  one  surpassing  the  former  in  power  and 
inner  organization  bears  the  name  of  apperception,  in  contrast 
to  the  unaltered  reception  of  the  same  perception. 

The  older  concept  is  called  the  apperceiving,  the  newer 
the  apperceived, — and  the  whole  process  consists  in  this,  that 
the  latter  is  compared  with  the  former  and  must  adjust  itself 
to  the  older  as  the  stronger.1) 

If  the  new  idea  has  elements  which  coincide  with  the 
apperceiving  concept,  they  appear  with  added  intensity,  if 
it  has  points  not  consonant  with  the  stronger  concept,  they 
are  suppressed,  in  that  they  are  almost  exclusively  subject 
to  arrest.  True,  the  newly  entering  concept  (the  apper- 
ceived) appears  at  first  to  have  the  advantage,  in  that,  on 
account  of  its  novelty,  it  claims  the  attention  with  full  power, 
especially  if  a  sense-perception,  whereas  the  older  concept 
mass  needs  time  in  which  to  assert  itself;  but  soon  this  rela- 
tion is  reversed,  since  the  older  concepts,  on  account  of 
their  many-sided  connections  in  the  web  of  series,  are  able 
to  attract  more  and  more  assisting  concepts,  which  free 
the  apperceiving  concepts  from  arrest.  The  process  closes 
finally,  in  that  the  apperceiving  concept  takes  the  apper- 
ceived up  into  itself,  after  it  has  assimilated  the  latter;  i.  e. , 
absorbed  what  is  like  and  repelled  what  is  foreign  and 
opposed. 

The  condition  of  apperception  is  the  presence  of  power- 
ful masses  of  concepts  which,  standing  in  the  middle  point 
of  a  wide-branching  web  of  series  (§  33,  Remark  2),  and 
supported  by  numerous  helping  concepts,  can  easily  repel 
every  arrest  caused  by  newly  entering  concepts.  Only  grad- 


1)  Compare  my  work  on  "The  Essential  FormV>f  Right  Methods  " 
(§  10  and  31),  for  an  explanation  of  apperception  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  judgment  and  the  syllogism. — Translator. 


APPERCEPTION.  125 

ually  do  concepts  elevate  themselves  to  such  commanding 
position,  in  that  they  frequently  pass  through  consciousness 
and  associate  themselves  with  numerous  concept  groups  and 
series.  We  have  here  a  growth  of  concepts  with  increasing 
age  and  through  repeated  acts  of  apperception.  Every  act 
of  apperception  strengthens  the  apperceiving  concept,  because 
it  absorbs  in  itself  the  new  concepts.  Herein  is  explained 
the  unyielding  opposition  which  elderly  people  who  have  lived 
and  worked  in  a  narrow  sphere  make  to  every  attempt  to 
change  their  opinions. 

Yet  it  sometimes  happens  that  older  apperception  masses 
are  shaken,  altered,  and  even  completely  transformed  by 
newly  entering  concepts,  so  that  the  course  of  apperception 
is  reversed.  '  'The  indisputable  evidence  of  a  new  perception 
necessitates  the  already  firmly  fixed  theory  to  undergo  modi- 
fications; new  experiences  unsettle  old  convictions,  and  in 
general  break  up  old  and  cherished  notions"  (Volkmann). 
Such  a  transformation  does  not  occur  without  violent  emo- 
tional excitement,  if  it  comes  on  suddenly,  as  when  we,  for 
example,  discover  our  friend  in  open  faithlessness.  It  may, 
however,  through  the  progress  of  our  experience,  come  to  pass 
gradually  and  assume  the  character  of  a  refining  or  clear- 
ing up  of  our  principles,  views,  and  convictions.  Thus, 
apperceiving  concept  masses  alter  not  only  with  regard  to 
strength,  but  also  with  regard  to  content.  Apperception 
may  even  increase,  or  become  more  powerful,  in  that  the 
apperceiving  concepts  are  themselves  apperceived  by  masses 
and  concepts  of  a  higher  order.  By  means  of  such  an  arrange- 
ment of  concepts,  the  organic  unity  of  our  consciousness  is 
produced. 

Remark  1. — When  apperception  does  not  take  place  there  is  a 
thoughtless  surrender  to  the  changing  impressions  of  the  outer  world, 
which  manifests  itself  as  childish  naivete,  or  as  dependence  of  judg- 
ment and  bearing.  Mere  perception  yields  itself  up  to  the  outer 


126  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Impressions,  apperception  seeks  to  subordinate  them;  there  man  is  a 
slave,  here  he  is  master  of  his  surroundings  and  his  fate  in  the  sense 
of  the  Stoic  maxim,  Sibl  res,  non  se  rebus  subjlcere. 

Remark  2. — Every  apperceiving  concept  rules  in  its  own  realm  of 
concepts;  it  has  its  own  field  of  apperception,  for  example,  the  realm 
of  numbers  with  the  mathematician,  of  tones  with  the  musician,  etc. 
The  apperception  masses  may  be  themselves  more  or  less  definite;  if 
they  are  too  indefinite  they  produce  that  easy,superficial  apprehension 
so  often  found  in  common-place  men,  which  does  not  trouble  itself 
with  nicer  distinctions.  With  a  sharper  defining  of  the  apperceiving 
concept  masses,  the  apprehension  is  more  difficult,  but  also  more  fun- 
damental, as  we  notice  with  philosophical  minds,  which  are  not  so 
quickly  ready  with  a  judgment.  The  shallow  physician  apperceives 
a  given  case  of  sickness  upon  the  spot;  the  indifferent  judge  does  the 
same  for  a  lawsuit  intrusted  to  him  for  decision;  whereas  his  more 
reasonable  colleague  reflects  before  he  decides. 


§  46.  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  APPERCEPTION.     ATTENTION. 

Apperception  is  the  form  in  which  the  mental  culture  of 
the  individual  and  of  society  is  completed.  It  is  a  kind  of 
process  of  condensation  of  thought  and  brings  into  the  mental 
life  a  certain  stability  and  firmness,  in  that  it  subordinates 
new  to  older  impressions,  puts  everything  into  its  right 
place  and  in  its  right  relation  to  the  whole,  and  in  this  way 
works  at  that  organic  formation  of  our  consciousness  which 
we  call  "culture."  By  means  of  apperception,  the  individual 
fact  is  held  fast  and  remembered,  whereas  it  would  otherwise 
fleetly  pass  us  by.  The  apperceiving  concepts  are  the  best 
supports  of  memory. 

Apperception  is  exceedingly  important  for  attention  (2 
27).  To  give  attention  to  an  object,  means  to  hold  the  con- 
cept of  it  in  consciousness  against  the  threatened  arrest. 
This  may  be  done  in  two  ways,  either  through  the  continu- 
ance of  the  sense  excitation,  or  through  the  reinforcement  of 
helping  concepts;  the  former  is  the  basis  of  sense,  the  latter 


SIGNIFICANCE  OF  APPERCEPTION.  127 

of  spiritual  attention.  Further,  since  in  the  latter  case  the 
assistance  may  flow  in  of  itself,  or  may  be  brought  about  by 
design,  attention  appears  either  as  involuntary  or  voluntary. 

With  regard  to  spiritual  attention,  it  may  be  remarked 
that  there  could  be  no  more  powerful  reinforcement  of  a  con- 
cept on  the  part  of  helping  concepts  than  that  which  is 
afforded  by  apperceiving  concept  masses.  Even  the  most 
insignificant  phenomenon  is  firmly  held  as  soon  as  it  meets  a 
freely-mounting  apperception  mass.  Our  spiritual  attention 
is  involuntarily  turned  towards  those  concepts  which  meet 
with  apperceiving  concepts  in  our  consciousness.  Since  the 
formation  of  apperception  masses  varies  with  different  indi- 
viduals, since  this  depends  upon  their  biographical  develop- 
ment, it  becomes  plain  why  the  attention  and  its  higher  and 
more  constant  expression — interest — apply  themselves  to  dif- 
ferent phenomena  with  different  men.  The  jeweler  discovers 
the  flaw  in  the  diamond,  but  pays  little  attention  to  the  finer 
differences  in  the  blossoming  of  plants,  for  which  the  botanist 
is  so  sharp-sighted;  not  the  slightest  symptom  of  sickness 
escapes  the  physician,  but  he  does  not  remark  deficiencies 
in  bedding  and  linen,  which  his  wife  would  have  perceived 
first  of  all. 

Nothing  is  so  characteristic  of  the  culture  of  the  indi- 
vidual or  of  a  people  as  the  objects  with  which  their  atten- 
tion most  loves  to  busy  itself.  The  more  universal  the  cul- 
ture, the  wider  is  the  compass  of  these  objects.  With  the 
little  child,  whose  mind  is  not  formed,  spiritual  attention 
can  not  be  depended  upon;  his  mental  activity  follows  only 
the  direction  of  the  strongest  sense  impressions  and  the 
charm  of  novelty.  For  this  reason  it  is  the  hardest  task  of 
early  instruction  to  hold  the  attention  of  the  child;  associa- 
tion with  what  is  already  known,  appropriate  introductions, 
and  the  assistance  of  sense  impressions  are  the  best  means 
to  this  end. 


128  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Finally,  it  is  the  apperception  which  brings,  about  the 
phenomena  of  intelligence,  to  which  we  shall  turn  our  atten- 
tion in  the  next  chapter. 

Remark. — Apperception  is  the  reaction  of  the  old  against  the 
new — in  it  is  revealed  the  preponderance  which  the  older,  firmer, 
and  more  self-contained  concept  groups  have  in  contrast  to  the 
concepts  which  have  just  entered  consciousness.  This  superiority  in 
strength  may  go  so  far  as  to  falsify  the  outer  perceptions,  in  that  even 
sense  impressions  are  apperceived  by  strong  concept  structures. 
The  timid  see  ghosts  everywhere;  to  the  unhappy  everything  appears 
black;  to  the  optimist  everything  is  seen  in  a  rosy  light.1) 

Apperceiving  concepts  cause  us  to  see  things  even  where  there  are 
none;  as,  for  example,  the  schoolmaster  his  absent  pupil.  Appercep- 
tion enables  us  to  see  things,  not  as  they  are  in  themselves,  but 
through  the  medium  of  our  former  experience,  as  through  a  colored 
glass.  Our  view  of  the  established  order  of  things  is  subjectively 
colored.  No  angel  grasps  the  pure  truth — much  less  a  man.  Every 
thing  known  for  which  we  have  the  helps  of  apperception,  seems 
natural  to  us  because  it  awakens  responses  in  us,  and  because  we  can 
easily  find  our  bearings  in  it;  the  strange  and  foreign  leaves  us  cold 
and  awakens  at  most  only  our  surprise — we  know  not  what  we  have 
to  do  with  it;  hence  the  impulse  to  give  significance  to  everything, 
to  explain  it,  to  relate  it  to  the  known;  hence,  when  the  name  of  a 
man,  a  city,  an  event  is  mentioned,  the  satisfaction  of  being  able  to 
say,  "I  know  the  man,  I  have  been  to  the  city,  the  circumstances  of 
the  event  were  so  and  so."  Even  in  science,  all  explanation  seeks  to 
lead  the  new  back  to  that  already  known,  and  thereby  to  bring  it 
into  harmony  with  the  whole. 

§  47.  FATE  OF  CONCEPTS.  REVIEW  AND  RESULTS. 

The  elements  of  soul  life  are  sense-perceptions.  From 
them,  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  simultaneity  and  suc- 

1)  "The  botanist  sees  much  in  a  plant,  the  horsedealer  in  a  horse; 
the  musican  hears  much  in  a  piece  of  orchestral  music,  of  whose 
presence  in  the  sense  perception  the  layman  has  no  idea.  From  the 
same  story  each  hearer  interprets  something  different;  out  of  the 
same  laws  each  party  interprets  its  right;  the  same  turn  of  battle  is 
proclaimed  by  both  armies  as  a  victory.  Out  of  the  same  book  of 
nature  the  different  readers,  men  and  people,  have  gathered  the  most 
diverse  things"  (Volkmann). 


FATE  OF  CONCEPTS.  *     129 

cession,  are  formed  composite  concepts  and  series  of  concepts. 
In  so  far  as  we  project  our  sensations  upon  an  outer  world, 
they  are  called  outer,  or  sense-perceptions. 

Concepts  in  general  are  originally  mere  qualities.  If 
they  meet  simultaneously  in  consciousness,  there  follows  in 
consequence  of  the  unity  of  consciousness  a  reciprocal  action, 
in  which  their  like  and  opposing  characteristics  make  them- 
selves felt.  In  that  the  similar  further  and  the  opposed 
arrest,  individual  concepts  become  powers,  and  assume  in 
the  reciprocal  struggle  various  degrees  of  clearness.  The 
degree  of  clearness  of  a  concept  will  be  so  much  the  higher, 
the  more  it  is  furthered — so  much  the  less,  the  more  it  is 
arrested  or  opposed.  Hereby,  concepts  acquire  the  notion 
of  quantity,  and  can  be  graphically  represented  as  ordinates, 
which  stand  perpendicular  to  the  threshold  of  consciousness. 
(Statics  and  Dynamics  of  Concepts  in  Herbart.  See  Fig.  1.) 

For  concepts  there  is  the  law  of  continuous  existence, 
whereby  they  perpetually  endure  when  once  they  have  ex- 
isted. If  they  are  obscured  by  newly  entering  concepts, 
they  continue  to  exist  in  a  fettered  state  and  may,  under 
favorable  conditions,  be  again  unfettered;  that  is,  repro- 
duced. Through  the  possibility  of  reproduction,  which  is 
always  open  to  them,  they  assume  an  essential  function  in 
the  events  of  consciousness,  and  in  their  totality  form  the 
potential  consciousness  of  man. 

In  actual  consciousness,  sense  assumes  the  most  impor- 
tant role.  Concepts  arising  through  sense-perception  have 
a  lasting  source  of  power  in  the  sense  excitations,  and  resist 
successfully  the  arresting  influences  which  fall  upon  them, 
and  may,  without  special  effort,  be  long  held  in  consciousness. 

Reproduced  concepts  whose  physical  objects  are  not  im- 
mediately before  our  senses,  do  not  possess  this  lasting 
source  of  power.  It  is,  therefore,  difficult  to  hold  them  for 
long  periods  of  time  up  to  a  given  degree  of  concept  clear- 


130  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

ness.  "What  the  nerve  excitation  is  for  the  sense-perception, 
the  support  of  helping  concepts  at  its  service  in  conscious- 
ness is  to  the  reproduced  concept.  Individual  concepts  for 
which  a  large  number  of  helping  concepts  are  at  hand,  can 
be  supported  at  a  considerable  height  of  clearness  (favorite 
notions,  solicitudes,  interests).  Only  under  certain,  mostly 
abnormal,  conditions  does  the  reproduced  concept  arise  to 
the  intensity  of  the  sensation  (visions,  hallucinations). 

According  as  the  reproduction  bears  the  character  of  the 
old,  that  which  has  already  been  present,  or  that  of  the  new, 
it  is  divided  into  the  action  of  memory  or  of  imagination. 
Both  mediate  the  transition  to  intelligence.  Memory  fur- 
nishes the  content,  imagination  gives  the  form,  the  under- 
standing gives  the  rules. 

In  our  concepts,  although  they  are  merely  subjective 
states,  we  perceive  very  soon  indications  of  an  external 
world.  This  outer  world  presents  itself  to  us  in  the  forms 
of  space  and  time.  The  space  and  time  arrangement  in  which 
things  external  to  us  are  found,  is  reconstructed  by  the  soul 
by  means  of  apprehension  in  the  series  form.  Space  is  the 
perfect  scheme  of  an  all-sided  series  apprehension.  Concepts 
of  time  and  space  become  so  familiar  to  us  that  we  project 
all  things  in  space,  and  all  events  in  time,  so  that  it  is  the 
most  difficult  task  for  our  faculty  of  apprehension  to  think 
anything  as  time-less  and  space-less. 


CHAPTER  III. 
THE  INTELLECT. 

\  48.  THINKING  IN  GENERAL. 

The  formation  of  the  higher  concept  structures,  which 
impress  upon  our  soul  life  its  peculiar  type,  depends  upon 
the  manner  in  which  the  association  of  concepts  occurs. 
There  are  two  great  principles  in  accordance  with  which  the 
association  is  formed;  first,  the  principle  of  the  content  of 
what  is  presented  to  the  mind  (likeness,  similarity,  difference, 
opposition);  and  second,  the  principle  of  simultaneity,  and 
the  series  conditioned  by  it. 

The  association  of  concepts  according  to  simultaneity  and 
the  series,  is  accidental,  external,  mechanical;  because  the 
reason  for  the  union  is  here  the  purely  accidental  fact  of  the 
meeting  of  concepts  in  our  consciousness,  and  on  no  account 
because  of  any  inner  relation  of  content.  Even  the  contra- 
dictory may  here  be  joined  together,  even  the  disparate 
united.  Combinations  of  concepts  arise  to  which  nothing 
outside  of  consciousness  corresponds. 

When  without  effort  or  special  purpose  we  give  our 
thoughts  free  play,  they  often  take  this  mechanical  course, 
which  is  characterized  by  involuntary  leaps  and  quaint  com- 
binations. This  finds  its  most  perfect  manifestation  in  wak- 
ing and  healthy  states,  but  we  never  find  entirely  pure  types 
of  the  mechanical  association  of  concepts  in  dreams,  in  men- 
tal derangement,  or  insanity. 


132  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Very  different  is  that  association  which  is  in  accord  with 
the  content  of  the  concepts,  and  which  for  this  reason  appears 
as  a  necessary,  inner,  and  logical  one.  The  ground  of  unit- 
ing does  not  here  lie  in  the  subjective  encounter  of  concepts, 
but  in  their  logical  and  content  relations,  which  remain  the 
same  under  all  conditions,  and  are  alike  at  all  times  and  for 
all  minds.  The  most  perfect  expression  of  this  logical  asso- 
ciation of  concepts  is  found  in  the  state  of  reflection,  in 
logical  contest,  in  scientific  treatise,  and  in  mathematical 
demonstration. 

The  menial  adjustment  according  to  the  content  of  what 
is  present  to  consciousness  is  called  thinking;  and  the  faculty 
of  thought  is  the  understanding. 

But  one  adjusts  himself  according  to  the  content  of  that 
which  is  present  to  consciousness  when  one  unites  that  which 
should  be  united  and  separates  that  which  should  be  sepa- 
rated. Since  the  elements  of  concepts,  the  sense-perceptions, 
are  given  to  us  in  a  manner  independent  of  our  assistance, 
thought  can  only  manifest  itself  in  the  synthesis  which  it 
brings  about  between  these  elements.  In  truth  judgment 
as  the  act  of  uniting  and  separating  forms  the  peculiar  func- 
tion of  thought.  Perceiving  without  the  judgment's  syn- 
thesis and  separation  of  elements  would  be  purely  mechan- 
ical activity  of  mind,  but  not  thinking. 

Logic  distinguishes  three  functions  of  thought;  the  for- 
mation of  conceptions  (general  notions),  judgments,  and  of 
syllogisms,  and  traces  all  these  functions  back  to  the  concep- 
tions, or  general  notions,  and  their  relations.  Psycholog- 
ically the  act  of  judging  precedes  the  formation  of  general 
notions  and  the  use  of  the  syllogism,  for  notions  are  only  the 
result  of  judgments  about  things, —  syllogisms  are  only 
mediated  judgments. 

Remark. — Thought  will  often  have  to  disturb  the  connections  of 
concepts  as  they  are  preserved  in  memory,  in  order  to  give  them  their 


THE  JUDGMENT.  133 

proper  thought  form.  In  this  elaboration,  which  destroys  the  old  in 
order  to  construct  the  new,  the  imagination  assists,  yet  not  as  a  deter- 
mining force,  but  rather  as  an  assistant.  When  the  imagination  runs 
away  with  the  understanding,  the  quiet  movement  of  thought  comes 
to  an  end;  it  is  also  excluded  where  the  imagination  is  too  weak  to 
disturb  the  accidental  originally  formed  connettions  of  concept  life. 
The  former  is  noted  in  poetic  extravagance  with  its  exaggerations  and 
idealizations;  the  latter  appears  in  the  sad  spectacle  of  idiocy  and 
feeble-mindedness,  in  which  there  is  incapacity  to  adjust  the  acci- 
dental associations  of  consciousness  by  means  of  any  opposing  con- 
cepts. One  can  not  argue  with  an  idiot  on  logical  grounds.  He  regards 
the  lowest  as  highest  and  the  highest  as  lowest,  and  in  general  plays 
with  the  objects  of  intelligence  according  to  the  humor  of  his  will. 
Truth  is,  however,  supreme  above  all  arbitrariness;  it  mocks  at  all 
the  efforts  of  even  the  strongest  will;  it  may  be  denied,  distorted, 
discarded — it  ever  asserts  its  validity  through  its  own  might. 


2  49.  THE  JUDGMENT. 

As  the  logical  judgment  arises  from  a  question  and  an 
answer,  so  there  are  two  distinguishable  stages  in  the  psy- 
chological act  of  judging;  viz. ,  the  stage  of  REFLECTION  and 
that  of  DECISION. 

First,  there  must  be  two  concepts,  A  and  B.  One  of 
these,  A,  from  which  the  thought  proceeds,  is  the  subject; 
the  other,  B,  to  which  it  extends,  is  the  predicate.  The  sub- 
ject is  therefore  the  given,  or  presupposed;  the  predicate, 
the  added,  or  united. 

Were  there  nothing  but  the  two  concepts,  A  and  B, 
present,  these  would  simply  fuse,  and  we  should  have  the 
combined  concept,  AB,  but  in  no  sense  the  judgment,  "A  is  B. " 

If  I  perceive  a  person  and  recognize  him  at  once  as  my 
friend  B,  there  arises  such  a  simple  fusion,  without  ever  com- 
ing to  a  judgment. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  a  subject  concept,  A,  presents 
several  opposing  concepts,  B,  C,  D,  E, the  comple- 


134  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

tion  of  a  union  with  A  is  postponed,  in  that  each  of  them 
asserts  a  claim  to  be  united  with  A,  but  is  hindered  in  this 
attempted  union  by  the  like  striving  of  the  others.  There 
arises  a  vacillation,  whereby  it  is  undecided  whether  A  is  B 
or  C  or  D.  This  is  the  stage  of  reflection  or  of  doubt,  because 
we  have  to  consider  two  cases;  A  is  B  or  A  is  not  B.  Each 
of  these  judgments  is  problematic. 

Reflection  immediately  arises  when  I  see  a  person  known 
to  me,  whom  I  do  not  at  once  recognize.  I  am  inclined  to 
regard  this  person  A  as  my  acquaintance  B,  but  it  occurs  to 
me  at  once  that  it  may  be  my  friend  C  or  D.  Or,  I  see  a 
bird;  the  sight  of  it  recalls  to  me  the  general  concepts,  night- 
ingale, lark,  linnet,  etc. ;  thus  arises  a  reflection  as  to  which 
of  these  birds  it  is,  since  it  may  turn  out  to  be  one  or  the 
other. 

This  stage  of  reflection  will  continue  so  long  as  the  oppos- 
ing predicate  concepts,  even  though  in  rapid  change,  are 
present  to  consciousness  with  the  same  degree  of  clearness. 
It  will  be  terminated  in  favor  of  a  certain  predicate  concept, 
B,  as  soon  as  any  other  concept,  m,  appears  and  offers  such 
decided  help  to  B,  that  it  rises  with  positiveness  into  con- 
sciousness, causing  its  opposing  concepts,  C,  D,  E, 

to  sink.  Now,  nothing  will  stand  in  the  way  of  the  union 
of  B  with  A,  and  this  union  will,  under  these  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances, appear  as  the  judgment  "A  is  B. "  This  is  the 
second  stage  of  judging,  that  of  decision. 

The  relation  of  the  many  predicate  concepts  in  the  stage 
of  reflection,  may  as  with  Herbart  be  compared  to  the  rounded 
arch;  that  in  the  stage  of  decision,  to  the  pointed  arch.  They 
may  be  graphically  represented  in  the  following  scheme: 


THE  JUDGMENT. 
(Fio.  8.) 


135 


A  is  either  B  or  0  or  D 


A  id  B  through  M.    A  is  not  C,  D  , 


The  concept  M,  which  brings  about  the  decision,  is  the 
psychological  ground  of  the  judgment.  This  bird  is  a  night- 
ingale, because  it  has  this  peculiar  note;  this  man  is  my 
acquaintance,  B,  because  he  has  this  peculiar  walk. 

The  act  of  judging  falls  under  the  notion  of  Apperception. 
The  subject  concept,  which  is  not  yet  precisely  fixed,  is,  as 
newly  entering  concept,  apperceived  by  the  older  and 
stronger  predicate  concept. 

Remark  1. — Each  judgment  is  made  but  once,  for  the  doubt  which 
was  thereby  overcome  remains  decided  for  all  future  time,  provided 
the  reflection  was  a  fundamental  one.  Thus  the  youth  judges  where 
the  man  has  already  formed  his  judgment.  Every  true  judgment 
expresses  at  the  same  time  an  extension  of  our  knowledge  because  it 
gives  rise  to  combinations  which  were  not  there  before,  and  which 
answer  to  the  content  of  what  is  thought.  All  progress  of  thought  is 
connected  with  the  formation  of  judgments.  The  analytical  judgment 
merely  clears  up  our  knowledge,  whereas  the  synthetical  extends  it. 

Remark  2. — The  formation  of  the  judgment  is  distinguished  from 
the  mere  association  of  concepts,  in  that  it  does  not  occur  without 
resistance.  This  resistance  arises  from  the  opposing  predicate  con- 
cepts which  are  involved  in  the  reflection.  Therefore  judgments  are 
not  announced  when  this  resistance  is  absent;  when,  for  example,  the 


136  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

events  arise  as  they  were  expected.  But  where  the  subject  concept 
brings  with  it  the  opposite  of  what  was  expected,  we  feel  called  upon 
to  judge,  because  the  expectation  comes  between  the  subject  and  its 
accompanying  concept.  "The  sick  man  is  dead"  we  say,  because  we 
had  expected  life. 

Remark  3. — Can  animals  also  form  judgments? — The  dog  knows 
his  master;  he  understands  the  signs  which  are  made  to  him;  arrived 
at  a  ditch,  he  decides  whether  he  can  leap  over  it  or  not.  Even  if 
here  and  there  in  the  animal  world  we  find  a  certain  analogy  with 
judging,  yet  there  are  wanting  this  peculiar  calculating  reflection 
and  the  conscious  choice  from  among  several  offered  predicates.  That 
the  judgments  of  animals  rest  upon  associations  of  concepts  arising 
from  habit  and  training  is  clear  when  an  animal  is  brought  into  an 
unaccustomed  position,  and  where,  left  in  the  lurch  by  its  own  expe- 
riences, it  must  judge  from  its  own  reflection.  Yet  not  only  the  ani- 
mal, but  also  the  child,  and  the  adult  accustomed  only  to  a  mechanical 
life,  lose  their  heads  when  placed  in  entirely  new  positions  and  rela- 
tions, when  they  are  thrown  entirely  upon  their  own  understanding 
for  the  formation  of  an  independent  judgment. 


g  50.  THE  SYLLOGISM.  . 

In  logic  the  syllogism  appears  as  a  mediated  judgment. 
The  logical  relation  of  two  notions,  A  and  B,  is  mediately 
determined  through  their  relation  to  a  middle  notion,  M. 

Psychologically,  every  judgment  is  mediated.  Every 
judgment  independently  made  is  preceded  by  a  reflection, 
and  is  brought  to  a  conclusion  by  the  appearance  of  M,  its 
psychological  ground  (§  49). 

But  in  the  majority  of  cases,  this  decision  is  made  so 
rapidly  that  we  are  not  distinctly  conscious  of  the  grounds 
which  have  been  active  in  the  process. 

The  frequent  correct  j  udgment  of  men  of  slight  mental 
culture,  and  especially  of  children  and  women,  is  to  be 
accounted  for  as  in  consequence  of  certain  obscure  concepts 
which  are  influential  in  the  decision  without  coming  clearly 


THE  SYLLOGISM.  137 

to  consciousness.  When  we  ask  these  persons  why  they  have 
thus  decided,  they  are  incapable  of  giving  us  satisfactory 
reasons.  D 

Judgment  following  from  such  obscure  psychological 
grounds  furnishes  but  small  guaranty  for  correctness.  Where 
we  have  to  do  with  the  highest  degree  of  certainty,  as,  for 
example,  in  scientific  demonstrations,  in  logical  contests, 
etc.,  one  must  be  clearly  conscious  of  the  grounds  upon 
which  one  judges.  This  will  be  the  case  when  the  relation 
of  the  middle  notion,  M,  to  the  two  chief  notions,  A  and  B, 
is  determined  by  judgments,  which  are  then  called  premises. 

So  far  as  the  syllogism  is  concerned,  logic  is  concerned 
with  showing  the  various  ways  in  which  the  conclusion  '  'A 
is  B,"  may,  through  the  mediation  of  the  middle  notion,  M, 
be  derived  from  the  two  premises.  It  shows  that  the  whole 
of  these  forms  of  the  syllogism  may  be  reduced  to  a  single 
fundamental  form  called  the  first  categorical  figure: 
M  is  B  Major  Premise 

A  is  M  Minor  Premise 


hence  A  is  B  Conclusion. 

The  Major  Premise  corresponds  to  a  general  rule,  the 
Minor  Premise  posits  a  special  case,  which  in  the  conclusion 
is  subsumed  under  the  general  rule. 

But  the  transition  from  the  universal  to  the  particular 
corresponds  but  slightly  to  the  psychological  course  of  experi- 
ence, because  experience  begins  with  the  given,  and  the 
given  is  the  concrete  and  individual.  It  therefore  seems 
appropriate  to  reverse  the  order  of  the  premises  of  this  ground 


1)  In  this  connection  the  intellectual  instinct  of  women  is  remark- 
able. They  are  usually  able  to  hit  the  truth,  yet  without  being  able 
to  formulate  their  thought  in  an  entirely  logical  way.  And  "what  is 
not  perceived  by  the  understanding  of  the  adult,  is  often  seen  directly 
by  the  childish  mind." 


138  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

form  of  the  syllogism,  as  Drobisch  has  already  done,  for  psy- 
chological use;    thus, 

A  is  M  Minor  Premise 

M  is  B  Major  Premise 


A  is  B  Conclusion. 

that  is,  M  is  a  characteristic  of  A,  B  is  a  characteristic  of 
M,  therefore  B  is  a  characteristic  of  A. 

This  appears  more  clearly  when  the  transition  is  made 
through  several  middle  notions  or  terms.  Only  the  Aristotel- 
ian, not  the  Goclenian  sorites  corresponds  to  psychological 
thought.  (See  sorites  in  Webster's  Dictionary.) 

Remark. — Reasoning  through  the  syllogism  depends  essentially 
upon  subordinating  the  particular  to  the  general.  But  since  in  experi- 
encing only  the  particular  or  in  reality  only  the  single  is  given,  the 
universal  judgments  which  form  the  major  premises  of  our  syllogisms, 
must  be  derived  from  the  particular  and  individual.  This  arises 
mostly  through  induction.  It  is  concluded  that  that  which  holds  in 
one  case  or  in  many  cases  of  the  same  kind,  must  hold  in  all  cases  of 
this  kind.  Logically  considered,  the  inductive  conclusion  is  only  one  of 
probability;  psychologically  regarded,  it  has  often  the  highest  degree 
of  subjective  certainty.  That  to-morrow  the  sun  will  rise,  because  it 
has  thus  far  risen  every  day,  is  for  every  man  a  truth  which  appears 
little  less  certain  than  that  twice  two  are  four.  And  yet  this  truth 
rests  only  upon  a  conclusion  of  probability.  The  inductive  reasoning 
of  the  common  mind  is  characterized  by  its  inconsiderateness,  in  that 
men,  following  their  impulse  towards  generalization,  are  often  inclined 
hastily  to  draw  unwarranted  conclusions  from  a  few  isolated  cases. 
(Compare  the  Author's  Logic,  \  86.)  The  most  of  our  major  prem- 
ises, which  form  the  basis  of  our  inductive  reasoning,  have  themselves 
arisen  from  induction,  and  have,  therefore,  only  a  borrowed  univer- 
sality. The  premise,  "All  men  are  mortal,"  and  similar  premises  have 
only  inductive  universality. 


TRUTH  OF  THE  JUDGMENT.  139 

§  51.  TRUTH  OF  THE  JUDGMENT. 

A  judgment  is  true  when  it  gives  rise  to  such  a  con- 
nection between  our  concepts  as  corresponds  to  their  content. 
The  judgment '  'Man  is  mortal, "  is  true;  the  judgment '  'Chalk 
is  an  element,"  is  false,  because  the  asserted  connection 
between  subject  and  predicate  in  the  first  judgment  corre- 
sponds to  the  content  of  what  is  thought,  but  in  the  second 
runs  counter  to  this  content. 

Whether  the  judgment  is  true  or  false  will  depend  upon 
the  manner  in  which  the  reflection  and  decision  are  made. 
Very  many  judgments  are  false  because  they  are  made  with- 
out any  reflection,  in  that  the  first  predicate  that  offers  itself 
is  united  to  the  subject.  Such  a  judgment,  made  without 
any  reflection,  is  called  a  "prejudice."  With  other  judg- 
ments the  reflection  is  indeed  present,  but  not  compassing 
all  possible  predicates  it  becomes  one-sided.  Finally,  though 
all  predicates  are  considered,  the  necessary  '  'impartiality  of 
judgment"  is  wanting,  in  that  one  is  already  prepossessed  in 
favor  of  a  certain  decision.  In  this  condition  there  is  in  con- 
sciousness a  concept  or  a  mass  of  concepts,  M,  which  secretly 
reinforces  some  one  of  the  many  presented  predicates,  and 
which  has  its  ground,  not  in  the  content  of  what  is  thought, 
but  in  the  subjective  constitution  of  the  emotional  side  of  the 
mind, —  in  desires,  inclinations,  passions,  or  prejudices.  On 
this  account  it  happens  that,  in  thinking,  one  often  brings 
forth  results  which  he  desired  to  produce;  that  is,  he  has 
judged  from  subjective  grounds. 

Subjective  grounds  of  this  sort  are  concepts  which, 
without  bearing  on  inner  relation  to  subject  and  predicate, 
attach  themselves  to  them  rather  by  accidental  association; 
for  instance,  newly  entering  sense-perceptions,  sudden  fan- 
cies, or  reproductions  in  consequence  of  mere  habit.  They 
may  decide  the  result  of  the  reflection,  without  giving  the 
judgment  any  claim  to  real  validity. 


140  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

In  addition,  expectations,  wishes,  and  fears  often  influ- 
ence the  result  of  the  decision,  and  therefore  have  the  ten- 
dency to  falsify  the  judgment.  The  prejudices  of  the  mind 
mix  themselves  up  with  the  business  of  the  understanding, 
and  it  is  this  interference  which  makes  it  so  hard  to  arrive  at 
truth  regarding  certain  things;  as,  for  example,  one's  self. 

In  the  course  of  the  psychological  life  of  the  individual, 
as  of  societies  and  of  ages,  certain  apperceiving  concepts 
are  formed,  which  cannot  remain  without  influence  upon  the 
judgment.  They  furnish  the  major  premises  of  judgments 
according  to  which  our  opinions  of  every  day  matters  are 
determined.  The  judgment  of  the  benevolent  man  is  one 
thing,  that  of  the  avaricious  man  another;  while  the  judg- 
ments of  different  parties  and  sects  in  public  life  concerning 
the  same  things  must  differ,  because  the  major  premises  of 
judgments  differ. 

Remark. — The  most  dangerous  enemy  to  truth  is  self-interest.  A 
judge  must  not  decide  in  his  own  case,  and  the  witness  is  the  more 
trustworthy  the  less  personal  interest  he  has  in  the  result  of  the  dis- 
pute. Love  is  so  blind  because  self-interest  robs  it  of  all  reflection, 
and  the  highest  degree  of  love,  that  of  self-love,  makes  a  correct 
judgment  regarding  itself  almost  impossible.  Were  all  truths  as  indif- 
ferent and  cold  as  those  of  mathematics,  the  search  for  truth  would 
be  much  easier.  In  very  many  cases,  man  sells  his  judgment  to  sat- 
isfy the  claims  of  comfort  and  selfishness. 


§  52.  THE  FORMATION  OF   NOTIONS. 

Any  concept  is  a  psychological  notion  in  so  far  as  it 
answers  to  the  content  of  what  is  perceived;  i.  e.,  to  the  object 
to  which  it  relates.  It  should,  therefore,  have  no  more  and 
no  less  partial  concepts  than  the  object  has  characteristics. 

Since  a  concept  never  appears  in  consciousness  alone 
(3  27),  it  must  be  freed  from  all  simultaneous  concepts  which 


THE  FORMATION  OF  NOTIONS.  141 

do  not  belong  to  the  matter  in  hand  and  which,  therefore,  do 
not  concern  the  concept  itself.  This  is  accomplished  when  it 
becomes  the  middle  point  of  our  attention,  consciousness 
being  focused  upon  it.  (See  Fig.  2,  in  \  27.)  In  this  way  it 
reaches  the  highest  degree  of  clearness  of  which  it  is  capable. 

But  a  concept  must  not  only  be  made  CLEAR;  it  must 
also  be  made  DISTINCT.  That  is  clear  which,  as  a  whole,  is 
distinguished  from  everything  else;  that  is  distinct  in  which 
the  component  elements  are  distinguished.  Only  the  com- 
pound can  be  made  distinct. 

We  make  concepts  distinct  through  judgments,  by  means 
of  which  characteristics  lying  in  the  content  of  that  which  is 
perceived  are  brought  to  light.  I  distinguish  a  square  when 
I  say,  it  is  quadrangular,  it  is  equilateral,  it  is  right-angled. 

A  notion  is,  therefore,  a  concept,  clear  and  distinct  as  pos- 
sible, which  answers  to  the  content  of  that  which  is  perceived. 

The  concept,  as  a  general  term  for  any  mental  product, 
is  distinguished  from  the  notion;  for,  a)  there  are  an  infinite 
number  of  concepts  of  a  thing,  but  only  one  notion;  different 
men  may  at  different  times  represent  it,  yet  there  is  but  one 
way  in  which  it  can  be  truly  done;  b)  the  concept  as  a  men- 
tal state  is  something  actual;  the  notion,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  only  a  particular  FORM  OP  REPRESENTING,  and  has  the  same 
reality  that  number  has;  c)  the  concept  is  dependent  upon 
being  conceived,  it  is  nothing  outside  of  the  perceiving  sub- 
ject, and  as  a  mental  state  has  a  certain  intensity,  a  begin- 
ning, a  duration,  and  an  end;  the  notion,  on  the  contrary,  is 
timeless,  and  not  dependent  upon  being  in  consciousness. 
There  would,  for  instance,  be  a  notion  of  God,  if  no  one  were 
in  condition  to  form  one;  d)  the  notion  is  the  pattern  for  the 
concept,  the  scheme  in  accordance  with  which  it  must  adjust 
itself,  if  it  is  to  answer  to  the  content  of  the  actual.  Notions 
are  logical  ideals.  While  concepts  are  something  in  motion, 
are  changeable,  accidental,  and  subjective,  notions  are  dis- 


142  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

tinguished  by  their  rest,  unchangeableness,  necessity,  and 
validity.  (For  this  reason  they  were  held  to  be  true  exist- 
ences by  the  philosopher,  Plato.) 

Remark. — The  judgment  is  the  mother  of  the  notion;  every  judg- 
ment as  soon  as  made  is  transformed  into  a  notion,  which  is  made  dis- 
tinct by  a  predicate  determination,  that  is,  by  a  characteristic.  The 
judgment,  "the  soul  is  immortal,"  is  transformed  into  the  notion 
immortal  soul.  As  the  notion  becomes  distinct  through  the  affirma- 
tive judgment,  so  it  is  made  clear  through  the  negative  judgment, 
being  thus  distinguished  from  other  similar  notions.  Precision  of 
thought  is  shown  in  the  sharp  distinguishing  of  notions. 


§  53.  KINDS  OF  NOTIONS. 

Notions  are  either  individual  or  general.  The  object  of 
an  individual  notion  is  the  individual  thing;  that  of  the  gen- 
eral notion  is  the  multiplicity  of  single  things  which,  agree- 
ing in  any  particular,  properly  belong  together,  and  hence 
form  a  CLASS,  even  though  widely  separated  in  space  and  time. 

Individual  as  well  as  general  notions  arise  from  sense- 
perception  through  abstraction.  If  a  single  thing  is  perceived 
repeatedly,  hence  under  different  circumstances,  the  concept 
A  is  found  each  time  to  be  united  with  another  group  of  con- 
cepts, m,  n,  o ,  whereby  the  total  concepts,  Am,  An, 

Ao arise.  If,  now,  the  object  A  is  perceived,  all  of 

these  concept  masses  are  reproduced  according  to  the  law  of 

similarity,  when  the  opposing  concepts,  m,  n,  o, are 

obscured,  and  A  is  intensified  and  freed  from  all  simulta- 
neous concepts,  that  is,  becomes  a  notion.  During  this  pro- 
cess there  is  a  concentration  of  attention  upon  the  object  A. 
In  this  way  the  child,  through  repeated  observation  and 
attention,  reaches  the  notions  of  the  individual  things  which 
surround  it;  for  illustration,  "this  rose" — but  not  rose  in 


KINDS  OF  NOTIONS.  143 

general.1)  The  attention  must  be  withdrawn  from  the  vase  in 
which  the  rose  is,  and  the  table  upon  which  the  vase  stands. 
General  notions  also  arise  from  sense-perceptions  through 
abstraction.  If  one  has  gained  a  number  of  similar  percep- 
tions, for  example,  of  different  hotises,  and  later  sees  a  given 
house,  the  previously  gained  perceptions  of  houses  are  repro- 
duced according  to  the  law  similarity,  and  of  themselves 
arranged  in  series.  All  the  members  of  this  series  have  a 
common  chief  element,  AB,  which  comprises  that  which  be- 
longs to  all  these  perceptions,  e.  g. ,  the  houses,  and  are  dis- 
tinguished only  by  certain  minor  determinations,  C,  D,  E,  F, 
G,  which  belong  to  them  individually.  It  is  natural  that  the 
concept  of  this  chief  element,  since  it  occurs  in  all  members 
of  the  series,  should  attain  to  a  special  strength,  or  inten- 
sity, while  the  minor  elements  should  sink  beneath  the  thres- 
hold of  consciousness. 

(Fio.  9.) 
AB 


ABC         ABD  ABE         ARF 


v  v  v  v 


V 


Thus  there  arises  at  first  a  common  image,  which  is, 
however,  clouded  by  those  manifold  minor  concept  elements 
which  linger  about  it.  Only  when  the  abstraction  is  com- 


1)  The  formation  of  this  notion  is  greatly  facilitated  if  the  object 
is  a  movable  one.  Since  as  a  movable  object  it  is  observed  with  vari- 
ous surroundings,  it  can  the  more  easily  be  released  from  the  back- 
ground which  is  at  the  same  time  perceived  with  it.  On  this  account 
the  child  apprehends  the  living  thing  easier  than  the  lifeless  one — the 
cat  easier  than  the  table. 


144  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

pletely  freed  from  everything  non-essential  and  subordinate, 
by  means  of  negative  judgments,  does  it  become  a  general 
notion.  But  this  abstraction  is  never  wholly  completed, 
because  the  opposing  minor  determinations,  C,  D,  E,  F,  G, . . . 
do  not  have  like  intensity?  Let  us  assume  that  in  the  group 
of  perceptions  from  which  A  B  is  to  be  abstracted,  the  mem- 
bers ABC  and  A  B  F  predominate;  they  will  not  suffer  total 
obscuration,  but  will  hover  round  the  common  image,  AB. 

i  O       7 

The  content  of  the  common  image,  "house,"  which  arises 
from  perceptions  of  huts,  palaces,  churches,  barracks,  etc., 
will  bear  the  marks  of  this  field  of  observation,  and  will 
depend  upon  what  perceptions  predominate.1' 

The  perceptions  ABC,  ABD,  ABE . .  . .  e.  g. ,  stone  house, 
frame  house,  one-story  house,  two-story  house,  cottage, 
palace. .  . .,  logically  considered,  form  the  extent  or  compass 
of  the  general  notion  AB  (house).  From  this  arises  the  im- 
portant principle:  General  notions  are  thought  psycholog- 
ically, not  through  their  content  (sum  total  of  characteristics, 
definition),  but  through  their  extent  (survey  of  kinds,  number, 
or  quantity  of  that  to  which  the  notion  applies).  The  notion 
"color1'  can  be  thought  no  other  way  than  through  red, 
orange,  green,  blue,  violet. 

Remark  1. — The  general  notion  makes  demands  upon  our  con- 
ceiving power  which  become  the  more  difficult  of  fulfillment  the 
higher  the  notion  is,  because  the  number  of  particular  determinations 
to  be  repressed  increases  with  the  universality  of  the  notion.  In  addi- 
tion, the  extent  of  these  notions  gradually  becomes  too  great  for  us 
even  superficially  to  apprehend  with  our  conceiving  power.  How 
great,  for  example,  is  the  extent  of  the  notion  "animal"!  How  is  it 
possible,  even  superficially,  to  think  the  enormous  extent,  which 

1)  The  dweller  in  the  capital,  who  sees  mostly  palaces  about  him, 
will  make  quite  another  image  of  the  notion  "house,"  than  that  made 
by  the  inhabitant  of  the  peasant  village,  whose  eyes  rest  mostly  upon 
wretched  huts,  even  though  each  makes  an  earnest  endeavor  to  free 
his  mind  of  all  non-essential  elements  in  forming  his  notion  of  the 
house. 


SPEECH  AND  THOUGHT.  145 

embraces  all  mammals,  fishes,  birds,  butterflies,  bugs,  and  insects,  the 
elephant  and  the  plant-louse.  And  yet,  whoever  asserts  anything  of 
animals  asserts  it  alike  of  all  these  creatures.  Hence  the  thought 
activity  of  the  weak  thinker  grows  lame  when  thought  reaches  the 
sphere  of  high  abstractions,  and  the  necessity  arises  of  attaching  the 
universal  to  the  particular,  the  rule  to  the  example.  (Longum  est  iter 
per  praecepta,  breve  et  efficax  per  exempla.)  Thus  the  geometrician 
proves  a  theorem  from  a  particular  triangle  drawn  upon  the  board, 
which  holds  for  every  triangle,  irrespective  of  how  its  sides  and 
angles  are  constituted.  Instead  of  the  universal,  we  have  here  "one 
among  the  many"  (Quilibet);  instead  of  running  through  the  whole 
series  of  notions  which  compose  the  extent  of  the  general  notion,  a 
pause  is  made  at  one  member  of  the  series,  no  matter  which.  It  is 
particularly  the  notions  in  natural  history  which  are  thought  through 
typical  individual  images. 

Remark  2. — The  psychological  notion  in  contrast  to  the  logical, 
has  always  about  it  something  evanescent,  indefinite,  transitory;  and 
since  we  think  only  in  psychological  notions  we  have  here  an  expla- 
nation of  the  variability  in  the  judgments  and  opinions  of  different 
men  and  times.  Every  man  and  every  age  has  peculiar  notions  of 
the  same  things,  and  these  notions  are  in  a  constant  process  of  devel- 
opment, in  that  they  change  as  the  consciousness  changes.  The 
notions  of  the  youth  and  the  man  are  different,  as  are  those  of  the 
child  from  either.  The  astronomer  has  a  notion  of  the  sun  different 
from  that  of  the  former,  just  as  the  notion  of  virtue  and  of  native 
land  with  Socrates  differed  from  that  of  his  accusers. 


§  54.   SPEECH  AND  THOUGHT. 

The  condition  for  the  formation  of  notions  is  the  freeing 
of  a  concept  from  foreign  elements  of  consciousness  (§  52). 
This  is  brought  about  by  giving  a  sign  to  the  notion;  that  is, 
by  connecting  the  notion  with  sense  symbols. 

Individual  notions  have  their  peculiar  sense  symbols  in 
the  external  things  which  answer  to  them;  they  exist  not 
only  subjectively  in  our  minds,  but  also  actually  in  the  ex- 
ternal world.  The  visible  thing  is  likewise  the  symbol  of  its 
own  individual  notion.  This  notion  returns  to  us  as  often  as 


146  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

we  view  the  thing.  Even  here  we  perceive  a  language  in 
which  nature  itself  speaks  to  us. 

It  is  otherwise  with  general  notions.  Here  the  natural 
symbol  is  lacking,  and  must  be  devised  through  the  process 
of  culture. 

The  object  of  the  general  notion  is  not  a  single  thing, 
but  a  class  of  single  things  which  belong  together  by  virtue 
of  a  certain  inner  relation  (similarity);  as,  for  example,  all 
trees,  all  men,  all  houses — but  which,  however,  never  occur 
together  in  the  actual  world,  and  are  consequently  not  sub- 
ject to  comprehension  in  any  single  act  of  observation.  Their 
synthesis  must  be  effected  by  the  understanding,  which 
relates  the  one  to  the  other,  and  thereby  arrives  at  the 
"extent"  of  the  general  notion,  from  which  the  latter  arises 
through  abstraction.  (Compare  \  53.) 

This  relating  of  like  to  like  for  the  sake  of  the  formation 
of  classes  is  greatly  facilitated  by  the  giving  of  names.  The 
like  name  which  every  member  of  the  class  receives,  for 
example,  every  fish,  reproduces  the  whole  class  as  soon  as 
a  single  object  is  perceived,  and  therewith  the  general 
notion,  with  which  the  name  is  now  inseparably  fused. 

When  the  understanding  of  man  has  given  a  name  to 
each  general  notion,  e.  g. ,  tree,  house,  man,  he  has  thereby 
lent  an  outer  existence  to  this  notion;  he  recognizes  every 
object  to  which  the  notion  is  appropriate  as  soon  as  the  name 
of  the  notion  is  mentioned.  Thus  a  botanist  recognizes  a 
plant  by  connecting  it  with  its  peculiar  name.1) 

Just  as  the  noun  is  a  sign  of  the  notion,  so  the  sentence 
is  the  expression  of  the  judgment.  As  soon  as  the  child 
begins  to  express  judgments  it  begins  to  think.  Since  the 

1)  Not  as  if  knowledge  lay  in  the  name;  for  the  pronunciation 
of  the  name  furnishes  no  knowledge  to  him  to  whom  the  name  is  for- 
eign. The  name  is  merely  to  express  the  likeness  in  kind  of  the  given 
example  with  its  plant  class,  and  to  remind  us  of  all  individuals 
which  bear  the  same  name. 


SPEECH  AND  THOUGHT.  147 

formation  of  general  notions  rests  essentially  upon  judging, 
which  makes  content  and  extent  clear  by  enumerating  the  ele- 
ments of  the  notion,  it  follows  that  language  renders  the  most 
important  service  in  making  the  notions  clear  and  distinct. 
By  means  of  language,  knowledge  and  culture  receive 
immense  aids.  Through  tradition  and  writing  the  culture  of 
the  mature  is  transplanted  to  the  minds  of  the  young,  and 
every  generation  connects  its  culture  to  the  past,  instead  of 
beginning  anew,  for  it  assimilates  the  treasures  of  knowledge 
and  experience  of  past  generations.  This  treasure  is  mostly 
recorded  in  the  literature  of  a  people;  that  is,  in  the  sum  of 
the  written  monuments  of  its  culture.  Even  in  the  19th 
century,  we  partake  of  the  culture  of  Greece  and  Rome. 

Remark  1. — The  outer  representative  of  the  general  notion  is 
therefore,  not  the  single  thing  which  we  perceive,  but  the  name 
which  we  connect  with  it,  and  which  calls  up  to  consciousness  the 
whole  class.  This  is  apparent  as  soon  as  one  reflects  that  the  same 
individual  thing,  e.  g.,  a  lion,  belongs  to  the  most  widely  differing 
classes,  and  hence  may  indicate  the  most  various  notions.  For  instance, 
the  lion  belongs  to  the  classes:  "beast  of  prey,"  "strong"  "quad- 
ruped," etc.  In  this  way  ABSTRACT  NOTIONS  are  formed,  in  that 
through  the  assigning  of  names,  things  are  synthesized  into  a  class 
which  agree,  not  in  the  essential  elements  of  the  notion,  but  in  other 
characteristics.  If,  for  illustration,  the  lion  is  classed  with  the  bear, 
with  the  waterfall,  with  the  storm,  with  Hercules,  with  alcohol,  etc., 
by  ascribing  the  name  "strong,"  to  these  objects,  we  come  to  the 
universal  and  abstract  notion  "strong." 

Remark  2. — Language  in  the  narrower  sense  is  the  peculiar  supe- 
riority of  man,  and  the  greatest  vehicle  of  his.  culture.  True,  animals 
can  communicate  with  one  another,  and  possess  to  this  extent  a  kind 
of  language  in  the  wider  sense;  but  their  signs  are  rather  a  natural 
expression  of  their  momentary  subjective  states,  comparable  to  the 
sign  language  of  deaf  mutes,  but  in  no  sense  self-created  symbols  of 
general  notions.  Therefore,  with  them,  however  much  they  may 
show  traces  of  a  psychical  activity,  culture  is  not  to  be  thought  of; 
their  psychical  state  is  condemned  to  an  eternal  stand-still,  whereas 
the  race  of  man  is  capable  of  a  constant  development. 


148  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

§  55.  THE  RISE  AND  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LANGUAGE. 

The  present  oral  language  as  a  system  of  conventional 
(fixed  by  common  consent)  signs  for  the  symbolizing  of  con- 
cepts, presupposes  a  NATURAL  LANGUAGE,  by  means  of  which 
men  originally  must  have  come  to  an  understanding  concern- 
ing the  significance  of  conventional  word  symbols.1) 

This  natural  language  rests  at  first  upon  those  pathogno- 
monic  reflex  movements  which  involuntarily  accompany  our 
mental  states.  Man  in  a  state  of  nature  receives  impressions 
from  without  and  reacts  against  them  through  movements. 
These  movements  spread  themselves  over  his  whole  body  and 
to  all  his  limbs.  ( Quot  membra,  tot  linguae. )  Vocal  reflec- 
tions are  only  a  peculiar  kind  of  the  same  thing,  and  often 
develop  into  oral  speech. 

The  various  pathognomonic  reflex  movements  become 
involuntary  manifestations  of  the  states  of  the  soul,  in  that 
through  them  man  gives  expression  to  his  inner  state,  even 
if  he  does  not  comprehend  the  purpose  of  the  communication. 
When  another  attends  to  these  expressions  in  order  to  judge 
of  the  inner  state,  they  become  symbols.  Thus,  the  cry  of 
pain  becomes  a  sign  for  pain;  the  gesture  of  anger,  the  cry 
of  astonishment,  etc.,  become  means  of  communication  for 
these  states  of  the  soul.  Tones  here  stand  upon  a  plane  with 
facial  expressions  and  gestures — natural  oral  language  is  a 
gesture  language  of  the  organs  of  speech. 

In  this  way  natural  man  at  first  expresses  pathognomon- 
ically  his  feelings  and  excitations. 2)  To  this  class  belong  inter- 

1)  "If  language,  according  to  its  notion,  is  the  designed  com- 
munication of  thoughts  through  arbitrary  signs,  it  is  impossible  that 
the  first  communications  should  have  been  through  language,  for, 
arbitrary  signs  must  be  agreed  upon,  otherwise  they  would  not  be 
understood,  or  at  most  they  could  only  be  inferred;   but  the  speaker 
cannot  reckon  upon  inference  merely"  (Herbart  Psych.  \  130): 

2)  At  this  stage  the  word  is  a  kind  of  instinctive  motion,  which 
makes  its  appearance  with  a  natural  necessity,  upon  an  emotional 
excitation  through  external  impressions. 


RISE  AND  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LANGUAGE.  149 

jections,  which,  as  signs  of  reminder,  have  adhered  to  the 
original  state  of  language;  as,  for  example,  ha! — ah! — O! — 
alas!  poh!  And  also  the  self-explanatory  facial  expressions 
and  gestures,  which,  like  laughing  and  crying,  nodding  and 
shaking  the  head  (yes  and  no),  shrugging  the  shoulders, 
repelling  with  the  hand,  beckoning,  pointing,  etc.,  have  a 
significance  apparent  to  all. 

But  the  reflex  movements  take  on  also  the  character  of 
an  imitation  of  what  is  seen  and  heard.  At  first  only  a 
phenomenon  will  be  imitated  in  this  way,  but  afterwards 
also  the  object  itself  from  which  the  phenomenon  arises. 
The  exclamation  "plump!"  imitates  by  reflection  the  phe- 
nomenon of  the  heavy  fall  of  an  object;  the  onomatopoetic 
expressions :  ' '  Bow-wow ' ' — ' '  meaw ' ' — ' '  baa ' ' — and  the  like, 
are  designed  to  represent  symbolically  not  only  the  mere 
phenomena,  but  also  the  objects  themselves,  the  dog,  the 
cat,  the  sheep.  In  the  pathognomonic  state  we  have  to  do 
with  sound  gestures;  in  the  onomatopoetic,  with  sound 
symbols. 

Pathognomonic  vocal  gestures,  and  onomatopoetic  vocal 
symbols  probably  effected,  to  a  certain  degree,  the  first  com- 
munication between  men  in  a  primeval  state,  and  doubtless 
furnished  the  means  for  a  further  perfection  of  oral  language. 

As  soon  as  associations  were  formed  between  certain 
concepts  on  the  one  side,  and  certain  sounds  on  the  other, 
whereby  these  sounds  became  symbols  for  the  concepts,  man 
gradually  advanced  to  freer  and  freer  associations  between 
concept  and  sound  symbol;  i.  e.,  to  such  associations  between 
sound  and  concept  as  have  no  inner  connection,  and  which 
arise,  therefore,  only  by  a  gradual  conventional  connection 
of  the  two  associated  members.  Thus,  for  the  concepts  of 
the  house-dog,  instead  of  the  onomatopoetic  expression, 
"Bow-wow,"  there  arose  in  the  various  countries  the  vari- 
ous conventional  symbols;  for  instance,  "dog"  (English), 


150  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

"Hund"  (German),  "canis"   (Latin),  "lechien"  (French), 
"pes"  (Bohemian),  etc. 

The  free  associations  which  lie  at  the  basis  of  present 
oral  language  did  not  by  any  means  arise  arbitrarily,  as, 
through  the  dictum  of  any  great  personality,  but  they  arose 
rather  by  NATURAL  SELECTION, — in  the  way  indicated  by  Dar- 
win for  the  development  of  natural  organisms.  Just  as  the 
Arabians  still  possess  six  thousand  words  for  the  camel,  two 
thousand  for  the  horse,  fifty  for  the  lion,  and  two  hundred 
for  the  snake,  so  in  the  formation  of  language  there  arose 
at  the  various  points  in  the  linguistic  territory  the  most 
manifold  linguistic  symbols  for  every  concept,  which  entered 
upon  a  "struggle  for  existence"  (competition)  with  one 
another,  until  finally,  for  whatever  reason,  the  present  cur- 
rent name  prevailed  over  the  rival  expressions,  and  arrived 
at  general  acceptance. 

Remark. — The  outer  speech  form  serves  as  an  external  sign  for  a 
certain  concept  content.  This  content  itself,  that  is,  that  state  of 
consciousness  which  comes  to  expression  through  the  vocal  sign,  and 
which  he  who  would  understand  the  sign  must  call  forth  In  himself, 
is  called  the  inner  speech  form.  In  the  life  of  the  nations,  the  one 
as  well  as  the  other  suffers  manifold  alterations,  which  are  intimately 
connected  with  the  changes  in  culture  and  with  national  fate.  The 
same  outer  speech  forms  are  filled  with  a  varying  content  In  the 
course  of  history.  The  word  "virtue"  and  the  word  "sun"  have  now 
a  meaning  different  from  that  ascribed  to  them  in  the  middle  ages; 
when  the  phenomenon  of  electricity  was  first  observed  in  rubbing 
two  pieces  of  amber  together,  the  word  "electricity"  had  another 
meaning  than  that  of  to-day — the  inner  speech  form  has  changed 
But  also  the  outer  speech  forms  which  should  serve  to  express  the 
same  thoughts  have  greatly  changed  in  the  course  of  time.  If  wo 
compare  the  German  of  the  Niebelungeri  Tales  with  the  German  of 
to-day,  we  are  astonished  at  the  changes  which  this  language  has 
undergone  in  its  outer  forms  during  the  last  six  hundred  years. 


-      DEVELOPMENT.  151 

g  56.  THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  HUMAN  UNDERSTAND- 
ING. 

The  understanding  is  not  an  actual  inborn  faculty  of  the 
soul;  it  develops  gradually  rather,  under  certain  conditions, 
and  this  development  extends  from  earliest  infancy  to  old 
age.  Memory  weakens  with  advancing  age  (§  38),  and  the 
imagination  is  dulled;  the  superiority  of  manhood  and  old  age 
rests  chiefly  upon  the  constantly  developing  understanding. 

The  following  are  the  conditions  for  the  development  of 
the  understanding: 

1.  There  must  be  material  present  upon  which  the  under- 
standing can  exert  itself.     This  is  furnished  by  the  senses 
and  memory,  which  together  fix  the  bounds  of  experience. 
The  more  experienced  a  man  is  the  more  material  is  offered 
for  the  exercise  of  his  power  of  judgment. 

2.  If  this  matter  of  experience  is  to  be  brought  into 
logical  connection,  there  must  be  an  inner  movement  induced, 
whereby  that  which  is  associated  merely  by  time  relations 
shall  be  released  and  replaced  by  new  forms  which  answer 
to  the  content  of  the  concepts.     To  accomplish  this,  imagi- 
nation is  above  all  necessary.    The  lack  of  understanding  in 
animals  is  due  to  the  lack  of  free  mobility  of  concepts;  i.  e., 
to  the  lack  of  imagination. 

3.  Single  concepts  must  be  freed  from  the  remainder  of 
the  matter  of  consciousness  and  raised  to  a  high  degree  of 
clearness.     To  this  end,  attention  is  above  all   necessary. 
The  greatest  enemy  to  reflection  is  inattention,  which  allows 
the  mind  to  skip  from  object  to  object.     The  melancholy 
temperament,  which  carries  with  it  the  least  rush  and  the 
greatest   strength  of  concepts,   is   the   most   favorable   to 
thought.     Necessity  teaches  us  to  think,  since  it  fixes  our 
attention  persistently  upon  certain  objects. 

4.  For  the  higher  culture  of  the  understanding  training 
and  instruction  are  also  necessary.     Should  each  man  seek 


152  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

the  rational  relations  which  obtain  between  the  objects  of 
experience  through  his  own  efforts  alone,  he  would  remain 
limited  to  individual  facts,  which  are  presented  to  him  at  the 
sport  of  accident  as  grains  of  truth  in  the  sands  of  life. 
Training  and  instruction  assist  him  here,  for  they  present 
whole  systems  of  rational  relations.  Such  systems,  on  which 
the  combined  activity  of  numberless  minds  and  whole  gen- 
erations have  labored,  are  SCIENCES  and  DOCTRINES.  Their 
communication  depends  upon  language  as  a  means,  which  for 
this  reason  forms  the  first  and  most  important  subject  of 
instruction. 

The  development  of  the  understanding  is,  therefore,  not 
only  a  mere  personal  affair  of  the  individual,  it  is  the  united 
labor  of  society  and  the  race.  The  history  of  culture  is  the 
history  of  the  human  understanding,  its  deviations  and  its 
progress.  Its  end  is  the  all-sided  and  masterly  elaboration 
of  the  matter  of  experience  by  the  understanding. 

Remark  1. — Wit,  acuteness,  and  profundity  serve  as  expressions 
of  especial  perfection  of  understanding.  The  perfection  of  a  thought- 
product  depends  upon  its  distinctness  and  clearness,  the  first  of  which 
seeks  to  illuminate  the  notion  internally  by  making  prominent  the 
content,  the  latter  by  distinguishing  it  from  other  notions.  Wit 
relates  to  the  distinctness  of  notions,  and  acuteness  to  their  clear- 
ness. Wit  leads  to  surprising  combinations  through  the  discovery  of 
new  associations,  acuteness  brings  about  new  analysis  of  concepts  by 
pointing  out  their  distinguishing  characteristics;  the  former  proceeds 
according  to  similarities,  the  latter  according  to  the  dissimilarities  of 
notions.  Wit  is  creative,  acuteness  is  critical;  that  is  synthetical, 
this  is  analytical.  Profundity  stands  as  a  higher  grade  of  acuteness, 
and  leads  through  the  finest  distinction  of  characteristics  to  the  most 
hidden  truths;  but  it  may  also  degenerate  into  the  most  idle  subtility. 

Remark  2. — We  have  an  illustration  of  how  limited  the  develop- 
ment of  the  human  understanding  is  where  education  is  lacking,  in 
the  condition  of  raw  savages  and  of  those  men  who  have  grown  up 
in  wildness.  The  result  of  such  experiences  tends  to  prove  that,  left 
to  himself,  man  would  rise  but  little  above  the  animal,  and  that  the 


FANCY.  153 

development  of  his  understanding  would  reach  only  so  far  as  neces- 
sity demanded.  In  a  civilized  state,  it  is  not  only  the  school  that  edu- 
cates us;  it  is  society,  with  its  rational  institutions  and  forms,  with 
its  customs  and  laws,  through  which  even  that  man  is  constantly 
educated  in  understanding  who  has  no  special  trainer  or  teacher.  The 
self-taught  man  in  society  is  by  no  means  such  in  an  absolute  sense. 

Remark  3. — The  progress  of  the  understanding  in  culture  is 
already  very  great  in  the  present  phase  of  human  history.  It  is  con- 
ditioned by  the  increase  of  the  matter  of  experience,  as  well  as  by  a 
more  intensive  elaboration  in  consequence  of  the  division  of  scientific 
labor;  further,  through  a  more  active  reciprocity  of  minds  on  account 
of  increased  communication,  and  by  the  discovery  of  new  scientific 
methods,  which  have  opened  new  roads  to  the  scientific  spirit.  This 
progress  is  most  noticeable  in  the  natural  sciences  since  the  discovery 
of  the  inductive  method.  Nature  becomes  constantly  more  trans- 
parent to  the  understanding,  and  even  her  most  terrifying  elemental 
phenomena  lose  their  terror,  since  they  are  exorcised  by  the  under- 
standing, in  the  form  of  natural  laws. 


§57.  FANCY. 

Fancy  proceeds  from  the  union  of  the  understanding 
and  the  imagination.  (§  39.) 

The  imagination  sets  the  concept  masses  in  motion,  and 
threatens  to  make  a  chaos  out  of  them;  then  comes  the 
understanding  and  subjects  this  movement  process  to  its 
rule,  in  that  it  sets  the  logically  constructed  in  place  of  the 
accidental  associations  of  time.  The  concept  masses  and 
series  enter  into  new  combinations,  viz. ,  into  such  as  answer 
to  the  content  of  what  is  in  consciousness. 

But  the  logical  demands  of  thought  never  go  so  far  that 
some  freedom  is  not  allowed  to  the  imagination.  The  under- 
standing gives  only  the  GENERAL  IDEA — the  closer  determi- 
nation is  left  to  the  fancy.  Thus,  no  single  individual  is  given 
by  the  type  of  an  animal  or  plant  species;  there  must  be  added 
a  considerable  number  of  minor  determinations,  in  order  to 


154  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

give  a  special  individual,  e.  y.,  "this  rose."  The  addition  of 
these  lesser  determinations  is  left  to  the  painter,  who  repre- 
sents for  us  the  universal  type  of  the  rose  as  a  single  example 
of  the  same. 

The  true  sphere  of  fancy  is  and  must  be  art,  and  espe- 
cially free  art,  which,  in  giving  individualization  to  the  idea, 
is  animated  by  no  foreign  purpose,  but  makes  its  task  to  be 
merely  the  representation  of  the  idea  in  individual  form. 

In  art  activity  we  have  two  stages  to  distinguish;  first, 
the  invention  of  the  idea,  and  second,  its  representation.  In 
order  to  reach  the  idea,  one  must  take  the  way  from  the 
individual  to  the  general;  from  the  perception  to  the  notion 
(for  perceptions  alone  are  given  to  us);  in  order  to  exhibit 
the  idea  individually,  the  idea  must  be  led  back  to  the  per- 
ception. In  the  first  the  abstracting  imagination  is  espe- 
cially active;  in  the  second,  the  constructive  imagination. 

Nature  and  life  are  the  rich  sources  of  artistic  creation. 
Even  in  the  freest  kinds  of  art  creation,  in  poetry  and 
romance,  the  various  elements  are  taken  from  life,  and  the 
more  this  is  so,  the  more  effective  they  are.  But  they  are 
not  copies,  not  photographs  of  life;  for,  the  features  there 
obtained  must  have  experienced  that  transformation  in  con- 
sciousness which  allows  the  ideal  to  be  recognized  in  their 
individual  exhibition,  and  which  lends  to  the  work  of  art  the 
ethereal  breath  of  poetry  instead  of  the  severity  of  reality. 

The  gift  of  invention,  which  manifests  itself  on  the  one 
side  as  a  derivation  of  the  ideal  from  the  particular,  and  on 
the  other  as  an  individualization  of  this  ideal,  rightly  stands 
as  the  characteristic  of  genius.  The  activity  of  genius  man- 
ifests itself  in  this — that  it  apprehends  old  notions  in  new 
forms,  whether  in  the  field  of  taste  or  in  that  of  social  and 
political  life,  and  brings  these  forms  to  view,  not  in  the  form 
of  abstract  notions,  but  in  a  form  appropriate  to  individual 
conditions. 


FANCY.  155 

Wit,  also  (§  56,  Remark  1),  which  brings  entirely  hetero- 
geneous concepts  into  relation,  and  seeks  out  their  similar- 
ities, rests  upon  the  activity  of  fancy. 

Remark  1. — Not  only  does  fancy  manifest  itself  in  the  true  art 
activities — it  comes  to  light  in  all  cases  where  the  design  is  externally 
to  represent  some  object,  or  to  execute  some  purpose,  in  a  manner  not 
slavishly  fixed  by  rule.  Fancy  manifests  itself  in  the  various  plays 
of  children,  also  in  games  of  skill,  and  in  the  labors  of  the  art  indus- 
try. 

Remark  2. — Hegel. metaphorically  defines  art  as  "the  shining  of 
the  idea  through  a  sense  medium,"  in  which  definition  the  immedi- 
ateness  of  the  artistic  creation  is  well  characterized.  Two  things 
are  here  to  be  distinguished:  the  subjective  thought,  and  the  objec- 
tive sense  medium,  through  which  it  is  to  be  revealed,  and  which  may 
be  very  manifold.  (Color,  tones,  stones,  words ) 


CHAPTER  IV. 
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

§  58.  THE  EGO  AS  CONCEPT  OF  THE  BODY. 

Self-consciousness  is  the  concept  of  one's  own  ego. 

In  the  stage  of  childhood  and  of  man  in  the  state  of 
nature,  the  body  appears  as  the  content  of  the  ego-concept. 
When  the  child  speaks  of  itself,  it  means  its  own  body. 

This  body  is,  however,  originally  known  as  an  external 
thing,1)  and  apprehended  through  a  rich  group  of  concepts 
which  relate  to  it.  Among  these  concepts  belong  not  only 
the  sense-perceptions,  which  are  made  by  seeing  and  touch- 
ing the  parts  of  the  body,  but  also  the  numberless  body  sen- 
sations, which  are  projected  upon  the  body  and  localized  in 
its  parts. 

But  the  body  must  very  soon  assume  an  exalted  place 
among  the  cognitions  of  man.  At  first,  through  its  peculiar 
sensitiveness,  the  changes  in  the  condition  of  the  body  an- 
nounce themselves  to  us  directly  through  the  body-sensations, 
while  of  external  things  we  have  only  indirect  knowledge, — 
in  so  far  as  they  affect  our  own  body.  As  an  inner  thing, 
the  body  is,  therefore,  set  over  against  outer  things. 

The  body  is,  further,  the  middle  of  our  constant  experi- 
ence in  space.  The  space  series,  through  which  we  deter- 
mine the  position  of  things  in  space,  all  proceed  outward 
from  it;  as  soon  as  the  body  changes  its  place,  all  the  dis- 

1)  Therefore  the  child  speaks  of  himself  in  the  third  person: 
Karl  goes;  Karl  wants. 


THE  EGO  AS  CONCEPT  OF  THE  BODY.  157 

tances  of  external  things  from  us  are  changed,  whereas 
change  of  place  in  any  external  thing  merely  changes  a  single 
line  of  distance,  the  others  not  being  altered  in  the  least. 

Our  own  body  is  also  distinguished  from  outer  things, 
in  that  we  have  immediate  control  of  it,  because  it  is  subor- 
dinated to  the  will  through  the  organs  of  motion  (3  25).  The 
movements  of  the  body  follow  the  inner  impulse  IMMEDIATELY, 
whereas  changes  in  external  things  made  by  design  can  be 
brought  about  only  MEDIATELY;  viz. ,  through  the  movements 
of  the  limbs. 

Finally,  our  own  body  is  the  starting  point  for  all  motions 
and  actions  whose  peculiar  quality  and  direction  are  brought 
to  our  consciousness  through  muscular  sensations  (?  18). 

The  concept  of  our  own  body  as  a  sensitive  inner  thing, 
voluntarily  movable,  which  is  at  the  same  time  the  starting- 
point  of  our  experience  in  space,  as  icell  as  of  motions  and 
deeds,  forms  the  content  of  self-consciousness  in  its  first,  prim- 
itive stage. 

Remark. — To  the  body,  as  the  first  rough  substrate  of  the  ego- 
concept,  are  added  gradually  certain  external  things,  partly  because 
they  relate  closely  to  the  body,  as  clothing,  decoration,  steed,  equi- 
page  partly  because  they  mediate  the  rule  of  the  ego  over  the 

external  world  as  powerfully  as  the  limbs;  thus,  for  instance,  weapons 
and  instruments.  The  soldier  counts  his  gun,  the  rider  his  horse, 
the  king  his  scepter  and  throne,  among  the  attributes  of  personality; 
for,  the  muscles  of  the  horse  serve  the  rider  as  well  as  his  own;  and  a 
good  weapon  is  more  powerful  than  the  mightiest  fist.  —  Hence 
in  all  ages  the  increase  in  the  feeling  of  self  with  riders  and  armed 
men — hence  the  passion  of  seeking,  through  clothing,  adornment, 
emblems  of  honor,  etc.,  to  give  the  body  a  greater  external  impor- 
tance, and  even  a  greater  extension.  The  use  of  buskins  in  the 
antique  tragedy  and  the  high  heels  of  modern  times — the  love  for 
expansive  garments  (crinolines  and  trails  with  ladies) — the  use  of 
high  caps  and  hats  as  indications  of  higher  worthiness — the  sig- 
nificance of  the  staff  as  a  continuation  of  the  body  in  any  desired 
direction  (scepter,  marshal's  staff,  musician's  baton)  —  the  many 


158  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

singular  articles  of  the  toilette  with  men  and  women — all  of  these 
things  show  the  impulse  to  give  the  body  a  greater  extension, 
partly  in  height,  partly  in  breadth,  and  thereby  to  increase  the 
respect  for  personality. 

Going  still  further,  one  may  count  with  the  body  all  those  exter- 
nal things  in  the  form  of  property  over  which  man  has  the  right  of 
free  disposition.  Not  only  the  physical  strength,  but  also  "means" 
(property),  as  the  name  indicates,  is  an  attribute  of  personality;  not 
only  the  weapon,  but  also  the  well-filled  pocket-book  lends  to  man  a 
higher  feeling  of  self,  and  the  pauper,  however  robust  he  may  !»<•. 
appears  meek  beside  the  rich  man.  In  a  much  more  significant 
degree,  however,  is  the  intellectual  possession  to  be  regarded  as  an 
extension  of  personality,  because  a  separation  from  the  person  is  not 
so  easily  thinkable  as  with  material  goods.  The  poet  regards  his 
poems  as  the  best  part  of  his  personality,  and  the  painter  calls  his 
paintings  "his,"  even  when  they  have  become  the  property  of  the 
dealer  or  the  patron. 


§  59.  THE  EGO  AS  MEETING-PLACE  OF  CONCEPTS. 

Bodily  sensations  are  localized  within  the  body — sense- 
perceptions  are  projected  in  outer  space.  Color  and  tone  are 
not  regarded  as  concepts  of  the  soul,  but  as  attributes  of 
things;  we  do  not  relate  them  to  consciousness,  but  to  objects 
in  space,  just  as  we  appear  to  have  the  sensation  of  pain,  not 
in  the  soul,  but  in  the  foot  or  the  hand. 

The  case  is  different,  however,  with  reproductions,  or 
concepts  in  the  narrower  sense,  which  we  understand  very 
well  how  to  distinguish  from  direct  sensations.  Here  we 
know  very  well  that  the  inciting  cause  of  the  concept  does 
not  come  from  without;  hence,  the  need  of  projecting  the 
concept  outwardly  disappears. 

Yet  we  are  compelled  to  ascribe  some  place  to  the  things, 
which  are  thus  merely  pictured  to  the  mind.  Where  are 
these  things  which  I  hold  before  my  mind  when  I  give  free 


THE  EGO  AS  MEETING-PLACE  OF  CONCEPTS.        159 

rein  to  my  thoughts?     Certainly  not  in  the  external  world. 
These  imaged  things  are  in  my  head.1) 

Since  we  relate  our  concepts  to  one  another  in  accord- 
ance with  the  laws  of  simultaneity  and  succession,  it  follows 
that  we  unite  them  into  concept  masses  and  concept  series. 
The  series  make  connections  from  one  group  of  concepts  to 
another,  in  all  directions,  and  thus  form  a  concept  texture, 
or  web.  The  crossing  points  of  this  concept-texture  form 
central  and  gathering  places  for  our  thought,  which  plays 
about  here  and  there  between  them.  The  main  series  which 
proceed  from  these  crossing  points  converge  toward  central 
places  of  a  higher  order,  which  again  unite  in  a  highest  mid- 
dle point,  or  center.  (Compare  ?  33,  Remark  3.)  In  this 
way  a  universal  relation  of  all  concepts  to  one  another  is 
established — their  centralization  into  the  strictest  unity  is 
brought  about,  just  as  in  a  well  ordered  state  the  courts  and 
official  positions  are  organized. 

This  central  point  of  all  concepts  not  expressly  projected 
outward  is,  however,  not  real,  or  physically  assignable,  but 
is  ideal;  it  is  precisely  the  same  as  that  from  which  direc- 
tions of  projection  and  lines  of  distance  proceed  in  all  spatial 
observation.  All  our  concepts  press  about  this  point,  all 
concept  series  proceed  from  and  return  to  it.  This  ideal 
point,  which,  in  truth,  is  nothing  more  than  an  expression  for 
the  fact  that  all  concepts  are  strictly  related  to  one  another,  is 
the  pure  ego  of  man. 

Of  this  ego  there  is  and  can  be  no  true  definition  or  idea 
with  a  definite  content,  because  an  empty  place,  a  mere 
gathering  place  for  concepts  excludes  every  determination. 
To  the  question,  "Who  art  thou?"  man  can  only  answer, 


1)  As  is  known,  we  can  not  distinguish  the  phantasms  of  the  dream 
from  sensations,  and  we  project  them  in  the  same  manner  in  outer 
space.  The  dream  conjures  up  an  external  world  for  us  which  does 
not  exist,  and  which  upon  waking  we  recognize  to  be  merely  an  inner 
world. 


160  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

"I  am  who  I  am,"  and  to  this  answer  he  may  add  the  para- 
dox, "I  should  be  the  same,  even  though  I  were  another." 

But  since  man  must  think  something  with  definite  con- 
tent if  he  is  indeed  to  have  a  self-consciousness,  to  think  his 
own  ego,  it  is  clear  that  he  must  fill  this  indefinite  empty 
middle  point  with  definite  concepts, — with  such  as  moment- 
arily lie  next  to  it,  and  which  most  fittingly  serve  as  an 
expression  of  his  ego.  These  are  those  concepts  which  are 
strongest,  most  significant,  and  most  reinforced  by  others. 
To  this  class  belong  the  concept  of  the  body,  also  apperceiv- 
ing  and  favorite  concepts.  So  the  man  bowed  down  by  heavy 
fate  cries  out,  "I,  the  miserable! ";  the  miser,  "I,  the  rich 
man! " — and  he  who  has  committed  the  heavy  deed  of  murder, 
cannot  think  of  himself  other  than  under  the  expression,  "I, 
the  murderer!" 

Remark  1. — The  fact  of  the  ego  as  an  unchanging  middle  point 
of  our  whole  concept-life  furnishes  the  ground  of  our  knowledge  of 
the  simplicity  or  oneness  of  the  soul  (Comp.  \  1).  Plato,  true  to  his 
principle  of  the  objective  reality  of  the  ideal,  posited  three  particular 
souls  for  the  three  highest  class  notions  of  all  mental  activity:  the 
knowing,  the  feeling,  and  the  desiring,  and  located  the  first  in  the 
head,  the  second  in  the  breast,  and  the  third  in  the  abdomen. 

Remark  2. — Simultaneous  with  the  concept  of  the  ego,  is  formed 
the  concept  of  the  "thou"  as  a  foreign  gathering  place  of  concepts. 
Man  notices  that  other  beings  perceive  and  think.  He  perceives  this 
in  their  movements,  which  are  guided  by  concepts  of  their  environ- 
ment. When  a  being  governs  itself  in  accordance  with  the  accidental 
changes  of  its  environment,  it  appears  as  intelligent.  In  that  we 
transfer  the  scheme  of  our  own  ego  to  this  other  being,  it  appears  as 
a  foreign  ego,  or  as  "thou." 

Remark  3. — However  subdivided  and  however  wide  the  world  of 
the  individual  is,  his  ego  remains  always  its  middle  point,  the  axis 
around  which  (but  for  him  alone)  the  universe  revolves.  Each,  the 
beggar  even  included,  is  a  king  in  this  world.  The  perceptions  which 
he  has  are  his  perceptions;  everything  which  he  thinks,  feels,  desires, 


THE  HISTORICAL  EGO.  101 

and  wills,  is  his  spiritual  possession.  If  anything  is  to  have  signifi- 
cance for  him,  it  must  become  a  part  of  his  ego.  Egotism,  as  the 
absolute  positing  of  the  ego,  which  would  raise  itself  to  the  middle 
point  of  the  world,  is  gradually  broken  by  the  oppositions  against 
which  it  strikes.  Man  finds  himself  in  a  society  of  equally  important 
personalities,  for  whom  he  is  only  what  he  makes  himself  to  be. 


§  60.  THE  HISTORICAL  EGO. 

To  the  notion  of  the  ego  are  connected  a  number  of  para- 
doxical ideas.  All  soul  states  belong  to  the  content  of  the 
ego,  and  yet  this  content  is  dependent  upon  no  particular 
one  of  these  states.  For  this  reason  the  ego  appears  in 
one  respect  as  a  changing  somewhat,  in  another  as  some- 
thing constant;  it  is  at  once  the  richest  and  the  poorest  con- 
cept mass. 

The  ego  of  man  becomes  another  when  his  senses  change, 
when  serious  accidents,  sicknesses,  etc.,  touch  him,  when  he 
alters  his  principles,  his  rank,  his  name;  as,  for  instance, 
when  a  Saul  becomes  a  Paul;  a  citizen,,  a  nobleman;  a  man 
of  the  world,  a  man  of  God,  or  when  by  marriage  a  woman 
takes  the  name  of  her  husband.  But  even  the  change  of 
name — the  most  fundamental  which  can  come  to  man,  since 
the  name  is  the  outer  representative  of  the  abiding  person- 
ality— is  not  able  to  annul  the  identity  of  the  ego,  before  and 
after  the  change.  The  personality  remains  the  same,  how- 
ever great  its  revolutions  may  be. 

The  ego  which  is  dependent  upon  all  the  manifestations 
of  soul  life,  and  which  constantly  changes  with  them,  is  called 
the  HISTORICAL,  or  EMPIRICAL  EGO  of  man.  It  compasses  the 
whole  life  history  of  the  ego.  There  is  no  event,  no  soul  state 
which  does  not  belong  to  this  ego.  This  ego  is,  in  strictness, 
a  constant  succession  of  egos  which  pass  over  the  one  into 


162  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

the  other,  and  which  answers  to  the  individual  epochs  in  the 
biography  of  the  man.1) 

(Fio.  10.) 

Ego. 


<v  =      =c  =      =e  =     —  g=:      =     =  ego. 

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

The  pure  ego  of  man  is,  on  the  contrary,  independent  of 
all  these  biographical  determinations,  for  the  man  remains 
the  same  whatever  occurs  to  him.  This  paradox,  that  from 
one  point  of  view  the  ego  appears  dependent  upon  the  indi- 
vidual states  of  the  soul,  and  on  the  other  not  dependent,  is 
solved  by  the  remark,  that  though  these  many  changing 
manifestations  do  belong  to  the  content  of  the  ego,  yet,  on 
account  of  their  opposition,  they  reciprocally  obscure  one 
another  (except  individual  traces)  when  brought  together  in 
the  unity  of  consciousness,  and  leave  behind  nothing  but 
empty  crossing-points. 

The  pure  ego  is,  consequently,  like  the  general  notion,  a 
common  image,  an  abstraction  of  the  highest  type.  Just  as 

1)  In  reality,  the  ego  of  man  changes  from  year  to  year,  from  day 
to  day,  from  second  to  second.  Every  moment  involves  a  psychical 
content  peculiar  to  itself,  which  is  united  to  the  content  of  the 
ego  as  an  addition,  and,  strictly  speaking,  every  moment  finds  a  dif- 
ferent ego  with  one  and  the  same  personality.  When  this  is  not  the 
case,  the  health  of  the  spiritual  life  is  lost.  Temporarily  one,  e.  g., 
an  actor,  can  lose  himself  in  another  ego,  he  may  regard  himself  as 
Napoleon  or  Alexander;  so  long  as  he  perceives  that  he,  who  just 
now  represented  a  king,  is  identical  with  him  who  was  born  of  citizen 
parents  in  this  or  that  place,  and  who  has  had  to  struggle  with  these 
or  those  life  problems,  so  long  does  his  mental  soundness  remain 
undisturbed;  if,  however,  he  can  no  longer  remember  all  his  former 
egos,  which  have  in  unbroken  continuity  passed  over  the  one  into  the 
other,  the  actor  becomes  a  monomaniac. 


THE  HISTORICAL  EGO.  163 

the  general  notion  can  be  thought  only  through  its  extent 
(see  diagram  in  \  53),  so  the  pure  ego  can  only  be  thought 
through  those  changeable,  empirical  egos,  a,  b,  c,  d . .  . . ,  out 
of  which  the  life-history  of  a  particular  personality  is  made. 

Remark  1. — Not  even  the  total  perception  of  the  body  remains 
the  same  in  the  course  of  life,  in  order  to  serve  as  the  constant  foun- 
dation of  the  ego  concept.  Anatomy  shows  us  that  in  a  period  of 
perhaps  seven  years,  our  bodies  are  completely  renewed  in  material, 
and  independently  of  anatomy,  the  vital  sensations  teach  the  aged 
man  very  clearly  that  his  body  has  no  longer  the  sensitiveness  of 
childhood  or  the  energy  of  manhood.  The  more  the  physical  sensi- 
tiveness decreases  in  age,  so  much  the  more  does  the  self-conscious- 
ness of  the  aged  man  withdraw  itself  into  the  spiritual  concepts,  so 
much  the  more  does  the  perishing  ego  approach  its  immortalization. 

Remark  2. — Not  only  in  time  succession,  but  also  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  may  the  ego  of  man  appear  as  manifold,  in  so  far  as  with 
him  several  historical  fields  of  concepts  are  formed  which  group  about 
centrifugally  inclined  middle  points.  Thus  one  as  statesman,  as 
writer,  and  as  father  of  a  family,  may  have  a  divided  ego.  It  is  always 
to  be  regarded  as  a  very  serious  condition  when  these  various  egos  of 
one  and  the  same  personality  stand  unmediated  and  unconnected  by 
the  universal  human  ego,  as,  for  instance,  when  one  as  official,  as 
Congressman,  and  as  man  manifests  a  different  ego.  (Compare  "Dr. 
Jekyll  and  Mr.  Hyde."— Tr.) 

Remark  3. — Where  the  division  of  the  ego  goes  so  far  that  the 
one  ego  is  no  longer  related  to  the  others,  mental  disturbances  appear 
which  assume  the  character  of  monomania.  Since  the  concept  of  the 
body  forms  the  middle  point  of  the  ego,  such  a  far-reaching  division  or  a 
transformation  of  the  historical  into  an  artificial  ego  is  impossible,  so 
long  as  the  bodily  basis  of  the  ego  concept  is  not  removed  by  violent 
and  lasting  aberrations.  But  if  through  somatic  causes  the  vital  sen- 
sation is  wholly  changed,  the  historical  ego  may,  in  that  the  final 
basis  for  the  identity  of  the  self-consciousness  disappears,  suddenly 
change  into  an  abnormal  one.  (Delirium  tremens,  somnambulism, 
clairvoyance).  The  historical  ego  here  remains  permanently  obscured. 
If  this  could  be  reproduced  through  somatic  change  of  tone  or  through 
direct  physical  influence,  the  patient  would  be  cured. 


164  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

§61.   "WE"  AS  SOCIAL  EGO. 

Just  as  there  is  developed  from  the  individual  conscious- 
ness the  ego  as  an  expression  of  its  unity,  so  a  "we"  is 
developed  from  the  social  consciousness. 

The  social  consciousness  is  formed  wherever,  in  a  plural- 
ity of  physical  personalities,  there  is  a  common  stock  of  con- 
cepts, and  a  system  of  conditions  whereby  the  concepts  of  one 
personality  are  able  to  enter  into  reciprocal  action  with  those 
of  the  others. 

The  various  individuals  forming  the  society  must  also 
come  into  physical  relations  and  meet  upon  a  common  ground. 
For  family  associates  this  common  ground  is  the  home;  for 
countrymen,  the  native  land;  for  kindred  races,  the  ethno- 
graphical territory  of  language;  for  man  in  general,  the 
earth.  The  physical  territory  upon  which  the  interaction  of 
the  social  members  occurs,  together  with  all  sense-peculiar- 
ities by  which  the  social  unity  expresses  itself  externally 
(language,  costume,  customs,  ceremonies),  forms  the  social 
body,  and  is  analogous  to  the  physical  body,  which  furnishes 
the  basis  for  the  ego  concepts. 

But  the  notion  of  this  body  for  the  social  ego,  or  "we," 
retreats  more  and  more  before  the  pure  spiritual  relations 
which  exist  between  the  members,  without,  however,  ever 
coming  to  an  entire  elimination  of  this  sense  apparatus. 
Thus,  members  of  families  regard  themselves  as  essentially 
one,  because  "the  same  blood"  flows  in  their  veins;  fellow 
countrymen  hold  together  by  means  of  a  national  "we," 
because  they  have  the  same  country,  and  hence  the  same  circle 
of  immediate  sense  perceptions;  members  of  the  same  race 
see  the  same  physical  object  of  their  unity  in  the  language, 
also  partly  in  like  costumes,  manners,  and  customs;  and  the 
Catholic  church,  which  is  spread  over  such  various  nation- 
alities, preserves  in  the  common  worship,  in  the  same  means 


AS  SOCIAL  EGO.  165 

of  grace,  and  the  same  church  language,  the  symbols  of  the 
social  "we"  of  its  members. 

The  social  ego,  or  "we,"  of  a  community  of  men  be- 
comes the  more  developed,  the  greater  the  compass  of  com- 
mon ideas  and  concerns  is,  and  the  more  intimately  through 
association,  communication,  and  social  precautions,  the 
ideas  in  the  individual  social  members  enter  into  a  reciprocal 
interaction,  similar  to  that  which  the  concepts  assume  in  the 
consciousness  of  the  individual  man.  The  greater  the  num- 
ber of  members,  the  more  extended  the  social  plane,  and  the 
smaller  the  reciprocal  activity  of  the  members,  the  less  is 
the  "we"  of  this  society  developed. 

The  most  intense  "we"  is  found  in  the  family,  which 
has  but  few  members,  though  held  together  by  the  most 
intimate  reciprocity.  Since  the  discovery  of  printing,  where- 
by the  circulation  of  spiritual  products  is  made  possible  over 
the  widest  fields,  and  in  particular  on  account  of  the  spread 
of  modern  means  of  communication,  which  makes  intercourse 
more  and  more  intimate  over  the  greatest  distances,  the 
national  "we"  has  had  an  enormous  development.1) 

It  is  of  great  psychological  significance  to  man  that  his 
individual  self-consciousness  extend  to  a  social  one.  The 
ego  of  man  manifests  itself  as  power  by  actively  exerting 
itself  outwardly  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  external  con- 
ditions into  harmony  with  its  inner  intentions. 

In  the  measure,  therefore,  that  the  social  ability  becomes 
greater  than  that  of  the  isolated  man,  does  the  social  valu- 
ation of  self  rise,  and  inspire  man  to  higher  deeds.  Nearly 
all  great  things  which  have  been  done  proceeded  in  antiquity 


1)  Most  peculiar  in  this  regard  is  the  preservation  of  the  Jewish 
nationality  through  the  march  of  time,  and  in  the  widest  geograph- 
ical distribution  of  this  people.  But  the  number  of  peculiarities  per- 
ceivable by  the  senses  in  this  religious  nationality  is  also  very  great, 
and  they  are  in  sharp  contrast  with  the  prevalent  conditions  and  cus- 
toms lying  outside  of  the  Jewish  people. 


1G6  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

from  the  political,  in  the  middle  ages  from  the  religious,  and 
in  modern  times  from  the  national  self-consciousness. 

The  highest  extension  of  self-consciousness  is  seen  where 
it  elevates  itself  to  the  notion  of  humanity,  through  the 
development  of  the  purely  human  "we." 

Remark  1. — The  family,  which  to  woman  is  a  w.hole  world, 
becomes  in  time  too  small  in  order  to  satisfy  the  strivings  of  the  man. 
He  seeks  to  unite  himself  to  a  greater  whole — state,  church,  nation — 
for  this  to  think,  to  feel,  to  do.  He  thereby  enters  a  wider  circle  of 
associates  in  opinion,  in  destiny,  in  party,  in  moral  views,  which  are 
united  together  into  a  higher  moral  person  through  a  common  "we." 
"We  Germans" — "We  Americans" — "We  Slavs" — "We  Austrians" — 
"We  Catholics" — whoever  speaks  and  thinks  identifies  himself  with 
a  greater  whole.  The  fate  of  the  nation  is,  then,  his  fate;  its  mighty 
deeds,  its  history,  its  future,  he  makes  a  part  of  himself.  In  the 
monumental  structures  which  the  national  consciousness  has  created, 
in  the  churches,  theaters,  industrial  palaces,  parliament  houses,  he 
moves  as  in  a  family  inheritance.  Still  more  is  this  national  self-con- 
sciousness exalted  when  it  is  supported  by  knowledge  and  study  of  a 
rich  national  literature. 

Remark  2. — As  there  is  a  social  self-consciousness,  so  there  is  a 
psychology  of  society  (social  psychology) — a  science  on  whose  devel- 
opment men  are  now  working,  though  Herbart  has  laid  its  foundation. 
The  author  has  developed  the  main  lines  of  this  science  in  a  work 
entitled,  "Ideas  of  the  Psychology  of  Society  as  a  basis  for  Social 
Sciences,"  Vienna,  1871.  (Ideen  zur  Psychologic  der  Gesellschaft  als 
Grundldge  der  Social  wissenscliaft.) 


\  62.  THE  INNER  SENSE. 

When  man  has  once  arrived  at  the  consciousness  of  self, 
the  impulse  is  at  hand  to  relate  these  changing  inner  states 
to  his  own  ego,  and  thus  at  the  same  time  to  perceive  in- 
wardly. In  this  way  self-consciousness  assumes  the  form  of 
an  inner  sense. 


THE  INNER  SENSE,  167 

There  are  psychical  states  which  proceed  without  the 
slightest  trace  of  an  inner  sense  activity.  The  ego  here 
yields  itself  to  its  object  of  thought  with  such  objectivity  and 
exclusiveness  that  it  entirely  forgets  itself,  and  therefore 
experiences  its  own  concepts  without  any  relation  to  self. 
When  we  experience  something  entirely  new,  when  we  are 
absorbed  with  pure  objectivity  in  a  scientific  problem,  or  in 
labor  or  play,  when  we  are  quiet  observers  of  a  drama,  or 
attend  a  trial  as  a  witness,  we  receive  the  external  impres- 
sions with  complete  self  renunciation.  The  infant  and  the 
animal  are  not  able  to  rise  above  this  objective  surrender  to 
the  individual  states  of  consciousness. 

But  it  is  very  easy  for  him  who  has  arrived  at  self-con- 
sciousness to  remember  himself  and  to  relate  the  states  of 
his  consciousness  to  his  own  ego. 

These  states  are  rarely  so  new  and  strange  that  they 
do  not  accord  with  the  former  experiences  of  the  soul  life — 
the  remembrance  of  older  lines  of  thought  is  awakened,  and 
because  these  belong  to  the  content  of  the  ego,  the  concept 
of  this  latter  is  reproduced.  If,  however,  the  ego  is  in  con- 
sciousness, these  younger  and  weaker  entering  concepts  find 
themselves  set  over  against  a  concept  mass  which  is  undoubt- 
edly the  oldest  and  strongest  of  all.  Here  we  have  the  con- 
ditions of  apperception  given.  The  new  concepts  lose  their 
independence  and  are  assimilated  by  the  ego-concept.  This 
assimilation  takes  place  in  the  form  of  the  judgment.  The 
newly  arising  mental  state,  A,  is  the  subject;  the  predicate 
assigned  to  it,  is  the  thought  that  this  mental  state  belongs  to 
our  ego.  Thereby  the  judgment  is  formed:  "A  is  mine." 
So  long  as  the  self-consciousness  is  active,  all  states  of  con- 
sciousness are  accompanied  by  this  predicate  "mine." 

Though  the  name  inner  sense  has  been  chosen  for  this 
process,  this  metaphor  of  language  should  not  be  taken  as  an 
actual  analogy  between  the  inner  and  the  outer  sense.  The 


168  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

activity  of  the  outer  sense  is  an  original  one,  that  of  the 
inner  mostly  derived  and  mediated  through  other  states  of 
the  mind;  there  we  have  a  real  sense  organ,  here  there  is 
none;  there  we  have  a  perception,  here  a  judgment;  there 
the  act  is  one  of  perception,  here  of  apperception. 

Remark  1. — Where  divisions  occur  in  the  ego,  in  that  different 
ruling  fields  of  thought  appear  as  different  egos,  the  division  will 
also  be  extended  to  the  apperception  of  individual  mental  states 
through  the  activity  of  the  inner  sense;  what  is  accepted  by  the  one 
ego  is  rejected  by  the  other.  The  marshal  Manlius  judges  otherwise 
than  the  father  Manlius,  and  to  this  day  many  come  into  the  position 
of  pronouncing  sentence  of  death  as  judge  when  as  man  they  would 
have  pardoned.  In  drunkenness,  in  passion,  man  commits  deeds  of 
which  he  is  afterwards  ashamed,  but  shame  is  nothing  more  than  the 
feeling  of  self-humiliation  in  consequence  of  the  conflict  in  self-con- 
sciousness. Animals  have  no  shame;  with  children  it  manifests  itself 
with  the  awakening  self-consciousness. 

Remark  2. — Self-consciousness  and  inner  sense  go  hand  in  hand 
in  their  development.  The  inner  sense  is  not  thinkable  without  the 
awakened  ego  concept,  and  this  again  can  not  be  formed  without 
the  relating  of  the  scattered  elements  of  mental  "life  to  a  common 
middle  point  through  the  inner  sense  activity.  The  strict  expression 
of  self-consciousness  is  that  inner-sense  activity  where  not  any  acci- 
dental mental  state,  but  the  ego  as  such  is  related  to  itself.  Thereby 
arises  the  judgment  in  which  the  ego  is  at  the  same  time  subject 
and  predicate,  and  in  which  the  threatened  separation  in  the  ego- 
concept  is  avoided — the  identical  judgment,  "I  am  I." 


PART  II. 
THE  FEELINGS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
§  63.  HOW  FEELINGS  ARISE. 

The  states  of  our  consciousness  are  in  a  continual  flux. 
New  concepts  constantly  enter  it,  displacing  the  old;  but  the 
latter  do  not  yield  without  exerting  an  opposition  which 
depends  upon  their  own  strength  or  intensity,  and  upon  the 
strength  of  their  reinforcing  or  assisting  concepts. 

Therefore,  there  arises  in  our  consciousness  a  constant 
arrest  and  furthering.  If  these  are  weak  and  transitory, 
they  pass  unnoticed.  The  forgetting  of  a  name  or  the  recog- 
nition of  a  person  passes  without  further  ceremony. 

But  where  a  concept  mass  or  concept  series  which  was 
originally  in  the  act  of  arising  into  consciousness  is  suddenly 
restrained  or  suppressed  by  an  opposition,  X,  the  concepts 
will  resist  the  arrest  which  they  are  about  to  suffer,  and 
thereby  bring  this  arresting  process  to  consciousness.  The 
thought  process  now  finds  itself  compressed  between  two 
opposing  forces;  i.  e.,  between  the  concepts  which  arrest  and 
those  which  further  the  movement  of  thought.  Resistance  to 
arrest  gives  rise  to  a  feeling,  and,  more  precisely,  to  a  feel- 
ing of  pain.  If  the  arrest  is  wholly  or  partially  removed, 
in  that  the  opposition  is  overcome  by  the  furthering  concepts, 
there  arises  a  sudden  furthering  or  promotion  of  the  thought 


170  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

movement,  which  we  become  conscious  of  as  a  feeling  of 
pleasure. 

This  is  made  more  graphic  by  the  following  scheme: 

(Fio.  11.) 

N 


M 

A — Seat  of  feeling. 
M — Furthering  concepts. 
N — Arresting  concepts. 
I.   N  >  M:  Arrest,  pressure,  pain. 
II.   M  >  N:  Furthering,  removal  of  pressure,  pleasure. 

A  feeling  is,  therefore,  the  consciousness  of  a  furthering 
or  an  arrest  of  the  movement  of  thought:  ichen  a  furthering, 
a  feeling  of  pleasure;  when  an  arrest,  a  feeling  of  pain. 

The  life  of  the  soul  is  a  concept  life;  every  furthering 
of  concepts  is  at  the  same  time  a  promotion  of  the  life  activity 
of  the  soul;  every  arrest  of  concepts  is  also  an  arrest  of  soul 
life.  Feeling  can,  therefore,  also  be  defined  as  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  rising  or  sinking  of  the  real  life-activity 
of  the  soul.1) 


1)  Rising  and  sinking,  however,  presuppose  a  certain  level,  from 
which  they  may  be  measured  upon  opposite  sides.  The  level  will  be 
that  mean  average  of  strength  and  intensity  of  concepts  above  and 
below  which  the  thought  process  fluctuates  during  a  certain  time,  as 
a  river  is  gauged  by  its  middle  stage  of  water.  The  mean  average  is 
different  for  different  persons,  aud  is  subject  to  significant  variations 
in  one  and  the  same  individual,  according  to  time  and  circumstances 
influencing  the  state  of  feeling. 


HOW  FEELINGS  ARISE.  171 

Remark  1. — Examples  will  make  this  clear.  My  friend  has  died, 
and  the  concepts  associated  with  this  event  produce  in  me  the  feeling 
of  pain.  The  image  of  the  friend  as  living  is  supported  by  a  multi- 
tude of  suggesting  concepts  (everything  which  reminds  me  of  my 
friend;  all  events,  conversations,  common  opinions,  and  purposes 
which  unite  me  to  him  belong  here),  and  at  the  same  time  arrested  by 
a  mighty  opposition,  which  can  not  be  thought  away;  that  is,  by  the 
idea  of  my  friend  as  dead,  by  a  conviction  of  his  death  which  can  not 
be  shaken  off.  Here  the  opposing  concept  prevails  over  the  train  of 
associates,  hence  a  feeling  of  pain.  Could  this  opposition  be  removed, 
could,  for  example,  this  friend  become  alive  again,  this  feeling  of 
pain  would  be  transformed  into  one  of  pleasure  or  joy. 

Remark  2. — Since  arrest  and  furthering  constantly  take  place  in 
our  consciousness,  in  that  ideas  constantly  come  and  go,  we  ought  in 
reality  to  experience  feelings  constantly.  The  most  of  them  are  too 
weak,  however,  to  make  themselves  individually  felt  in  consciousness. 
But  in  their  totality  they  do  make  themselves  felt,  since  they  create 
an  obscure  totality  of  feeling  as  the  result  of  the  individual  checkings 
and  furtherings  occurring  singly  in  consciousness;  thisfeeling,because 
inseparably  united  with  the  course  of  the  soul's  life,  is  called  the  life 
feeling.  Since  under  normal  conditions  the  furthering,  or  realization 
of  self,  predominates  over  its  retardation,  or  arrest,  the  life  feeling 
is  in  general  one  of  pleasure,  and  life  must  be  regarded  as  a  positive 
good,  despite  all  pessimistic  views.  1) 

Remark  3. — Feeling  is  often  confused  with  sensation.  The  two 
are  different;  for,  1)  Sensations  are  original,  feelings,  derived  states 
of  the  soul;  2)  Sensations  bring  to  consciousness  states  of  the  body, 
but  feelings  states  of  the  soul.  Hence  vital  feeling  must  not  be  con- 
founded with  vital  sensation  though  the  two  are  closely  related;  for, 
the  vital  sensation  is  only  the  result  of  the  increase  or  decrease  of 
mind  activity  in  which  the  organic  body-sensations  are  concerned, 
whereas  the  vital  feeling  is  the  effect  of  all  concepts  present  to  con- 
sciousness. 


1)  Compare   in    this  connection  my    "Problem  of   Happiness," 
("Problem  dcs  Glucks")  chapter  II.,    "The  Pleasure  of  Existence." 


172  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY, 

\  64.  CONTENT,  TONE,  STRENGTH,  AND  DURATION  OF 
FEELINGS. 

We  may  distinguish  in  feelings,  content,  tone,  strength, 
and  duration. 

In  themselves,  feelings  are  obscure  subjective  states,  to 
which  in  reality  a  qualitatively  determined  content  can  not 
be  ascribed,  except  in  so  far  as  this  is  borrowed  from  the 
concepts  which  are  the  seat  of  the  feeling.  But  this  is  not 
always  possible,  since  there  are  feelings  which  arise,  not  from 
a  few  distinct  concepts,  but  from  many  obscure  ones  (§  66). 
Only  a  few  feelings  can,  as  to  their  content,  be  precisely 
analyzed. 

The  special  characteristic  of  feeling  is  its  tone,  whereby 
it  announces  itself  to  our  consciousness  either  as  a  feeling  of 
pleasure  or  of  pain. 

A  feeling  of  pleasure  arises  in  consequence  of  every 
change  of  consciousness  whereby  the  degree  of  ruling  ten- 
sion (reciprocal  arrest)  between  the  concepts  is  lessened,  and 
consequently  the  mental  activity  temporarily  promoted,  even 
though  but  partially;  a  feeling  of  pain,  on  the  contrary, 
arises  in  consequence  of  every  movement  of  concepts  whereby 
their  degree  of  tension  is  increased,  thus  decreasing  the  quan- 
tity of  mental  activity. 

Since  the  mental  activity  of  the  soul  is  of  limited  mag- 
nitude, its  increase  is  only  possible  up  to  a  certain  point.  If 
this  point  is  once  reached,  a  diminution  of  the  same  must 
occur,  which,  if  suddenly  suffered,  announces  itself  subjec- 
tively through  a  feeling  of  pain. *) 

1)  Hence  arises  the  fact,  fully  confirmed  by  experience,  that  in 
our  mental  life  feelings  of  pain  and  pleasure  must  alternate.  Sudden 
elevations  of  mental  activity  may  here  be  followed  by  just  as  exces- 
sive depressions,  as  we  perceive  in  the  case  of  passions  and  surprises 
in  feeling — or  gradual  subsidence  and  unimportant  oscillations  of 
mental  activity  may  follow  its  gradually  reached  exaltations,  as  we 
see  when  intense  activity  alternates  with  rest,  and  the  mind  is  free 
from  violent  agitations. 


FEELINGS  AND  CONCEPTS.  173 

The  intensity  of  feeling  depends  upon  the  liveliness  of 
promotion  and  repression,  hence  upon  the  intensity  of  oppos- 
ing and  furthering  concepts.  (M  and  N  in  the  diagram  of 
the  preceding  section.)  The  most  intense  feelings  arise 
when  the  most  numerous  and  most  powerful  furthering  con- 
cepts meet  with  the  most  numerous  and  most  powerful  oppos- 
ing concepts.  They  arise  from  the  furthering  and  arrest  of 
concepts  which  spring  from  impressions  of  sense  or  in  exten- 
sive and  intricately  interwoven  groups  of  concepts.  The 
liveliness  of  the  furthering  is  dependent  upon  the  intensity 
of  the  arrest  which  precedes  it,  so  that  within  the  period  of 
our  mental  life  on  earth  there  can  be  no  unceasing  and  un- 
clouded joy. 

The  duration  of  feeling  depends  upon  the  continuation 
of  the  concepts  as  unimpaired  in  strength.  Sensations  are 
indeed  very  intense,  but  their  power  ceases  with  the  sense 
impression;  hence,  the  transient  nature  of  sentient  joy  or 
sorrow  depending  upon  them.  Much  more  lasting  are  those 
feelings  which  have  their  seat,  not  in  immediate  sense  im- 
pressions, but  in  extensive,  widely  branching,  and  deeply 
involved  groups  of  concepts.  Such  feelings  can  only  fade, 
as  "in  time"  these  concept  groups  have  lost  their  power. 

Remark. — Pleasure  and  pain  are  relative.  Diminished  pleasure 
may  be  felt  as  pain,  and  lessened  pain  as  pleasure.  An  event  which 
to-day  gives  me  joy,  may  leave  me  indifferent  to-morrow.  It  is  not 
the  absolute  exaltation  or  depression,  but  the  relation  which  deter- 
mines the  degree  of  intensity  in  feeling.  In  this  way  are  to  be 
explained  the  illusions  which  occur  in  reference  to  the  valuation  of 
external  objects,  in  so  far  as  they  appear  as  vehicles  of  certain  feel- 
ings of  pleasure.  A  gift  of  a  hundred  dollars  produces  a  different 
effect,  according  as  the  recipient  is  rich  or  poor.  (§  16.  Remark  3.) 


174  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

\  65.  FEELINGS  AND  CONCEPTS. 

Feeling  is  not  an  isolated  activity  of  the  soul;  the  feel- 
ings exist  in  and  with  concepts,  and  apart  from  concepts  are 
nothing.  Every  feeling  has  its  seat  in  a  concept  mass,  so  that 
it  always  arises  whenever  the  elements  of  that  concept  mass 
meet  in  consciousness.  Thus,  the  grief  for  a  lost  friend 
returns  as  often  as  we  are  reminded  of  him. 

Since  feelings  depend  upon  concepts,  so,  likewise,  do 
they  share  the  fate  of  the  same.  There  is  a  REPRODUCTION 
OP  FEELINGS  in  and  with  the  reproduction  of  concepts;  one 
may  even  speak  of  a  memory  and  imagination  of  feelings. 
Here,  however,  the  peculiar  fact  is  observed  that  reproduced 
feelings  are  far  inferior  to  the  original  in  intensity;  for,  the 
intensity  of  feeling  is  essentially  dependent  upon  the  power 
manifested  by  the  concepts,  and  this  in  reproductions  is 
incomparably  less  than  in  the  original  concepts.  We  have 
only  a  brief  and  feeble  memory  for  feelings.  The  mental 
pain,  like  the  physical,  loses  its  sting  when  the  first  impres- 
sion has  passed,  and  the  concepts  which  have  effected  its 
tension  return  only  as  reproductions.  Time  heals  all  wounds, 
for  it  gradually  lessens  the  mental  tension  by  gradual  changes 
in  consciousness. 

The  imagination  is  a  fruitful  source  of  feelings.  It  en- 
compasses things  with  a  peculiar  coloring  of  emotion  by 
means  of  the  minor  concepts  which  are  connected  with  them, 
so  that  these  things  affect  us,  now  as  agreeable  and  inspiring, 
now  as  repulsive  and  depressing.  A  glade  in  a  forest,  a 
simple  crucifix  in  the  still  loneliness  of  the  woods,  a  grave- 
yard, a  place  of  execution,  a  ruin,  inspire  peculiar  feelings. 

The  understanding  quiets  our  concepts,  since  it  seeks  to 
bring  them  out  of  their  often  intense  combinations  into  those 
conditions  which  answer  to  the  content  of  what  is  thought, 
and  to  substitute  natural  solution  for  unnatural  tension. 
Reason  is  the  universal  extinguisher  of  feeling,  particularly 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  FEELINGS.  175 

when  violent;  with  its  logic  it  seeks  to  lessen  our  pain  by 
showing  its  insignificance  or  its  inevitableness.1) 

If  on  the  one  side  the  reason  forms  the  corrective  for 
the  overflow  of  the  heart,  it  is  on  the  other  the  fountain  and 
creator  of  those  quieter  and  nobler  joys  which  spring  from 
insight  into  the  harmony  and  design  of  the  world  of  thought. 
The  creations  of  fancy  in  the  realm  of  the  beautiful  and  of 
art  are  mediated  by  the  activity  of  the  understanding,  or  at 
least  subordinated  to  its  rules.  2> 

Remark. — The  manifestations  of  feeling  are  also  dependent  upon 
the  rhythm  of  the  concepts  according  to  which  they  come  and  go  in 
consciousness.  The  quicker  rhythm,  as  observed  in  sanguinary  tem- 
peraments, in  children  and  in  the  female  sex,  to  whom  good  humor 
and  a  happy  frame  of  mind  are  natural,  carries  with  it  a  light  wave 
of  feeling  in  which  freedom  predominates  over  tension,  and  conse- 
quently pleasurable  over  painful  feelings.  The  opposite  is  seen  in 
the  more  retarded  rhythm,  as  found  in  the  melancholy  temperament, 
and  in  the  age  of  manhood,  as  well  as  in  states  of  depression  and 
sadness.  Everything  which  accelerates  the  rate  of  our  flow  of  repre- 
sentation, as,  for  example,  lively  music,  the  light  conversation  of  an 
affable  companion,  the  yielding  of  the  mind  to  the  changeful  scenes 
of  an  external  comedy,  produces  an  enlivening  effect  upon  our  mind, 
whereas  the  unchanging  absorption  in  one's  own  concept  masses  with 
the  exclusion  of  every  diversion  from  without,  is  the  characteristic 
expression  of  sadness.  The  grieving  Niobe  petrified  in  her  pain. 


I  66.  CLASSIFICATION  OF  FEELINGS. 

The  manifold  ness  of  feelings  is  very  great,  since  every 
movement  of  concepts  is  accompanied  by  the  excitation  of 

1)  Every  pain  loses  its  sting  as  soon  as  it  is  logically  analyzed. 
Says  a  gifted  writer,  "I  have  never  known   an  evil   which  could 
not  be  made  endurable  by  a  half  hour's  reflection."   If  it  were  possi- 
ble to  make  a  mental  analysis  of  physical  pain,  it  would  certainly  be 
easier  to  bear. 

2)  In  the  creation  of  works  of  art,  even  if  genius  should  not  be 
conscious  of  the  limitation  of  rules,  yet  approval  of  the  beautiful 
rests  essentially  upon  their  observance,  and  the  art  critic  applies  them 
in  passing  judgment  upon  works  of  art  under  all  circumstances. 


176  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

feeling.  Apart  from  the  division  into  feelings  of  pleasure 
and  pain,  which  occur  as  subdivisions  with  every  kind  of 
feeling,  one  may  in  general  classify  the  feelings  according  to 
the  concepts  in  which  they  have  their  seat. 

Feelings  may  have  their  source  in  general  conditions  of 
consciousness  or  in  particular,  definite  concepts.  In  the  first 
they  are  called  universal  or  vague;  in  the  second  definite,  or 
ready  feelings.  The  universal  feelings  are  diffused  over  a 
large  and  mostly  undefined  field  of  concepts, — the  definite 
feelings,  on  the  other  hand,  arise  from  definite,  sharply  de- 
fined concept  masses,  which  are  brought  into  relief  against 
the  general  background  of  consciousness.  The  univer- 
sal feelings  bear  a  formal,  subjective,  obscure  character, 
while  the  definite  are  of  a  clear,  objective,  and  qualitative 
type. 

The  vaguest  and  most  universal  of  the  feelings  is  the 
"vital  feeling,"  because  it  is  the  effect  of  the  whole  number 
of  concepts  streaming  through  consciousness. 

This  boundary  line  is,  moreover,  not  a  sharp  one.  In 
actual  mental  life  a  universal  feeling  is  at  once  transformed 
into  a  definite  one,  when  in  the  stream  of  concepts  any  one 
is  raised  to  a  certain  degree  of  clearness,  thereby  becoming 
the  middle-point  of  the  whole.  The  feeling  of  apprehension 
is  certainly  universal;  yet  it  assumes  a  definite  character 
when  I  become  clearly  conscious  of  the  real  cause  of  my  un- 
easiness. Just  so,  my  general  feeling  of  pleasure  in  good 
order  which  arises  upon  my  entrance  into  a  well-ordered 
house,  passes  over  into  definite  feelings  as  soon  as  I  turn  my 
attention  to  the  individual  articles  of  the  household, — the 
vague  feeling  of  hope  becomes,  under  certain  circumstances, 
an  expectation  of  some  particular  event. 

Another  division  is  that  of  lower  and  higher  feelings, 
according  as  the  mental  activity  upon  which  the  feeling  rests, 
proceeds  without  the  mediation  of  intelligence  or  with  it. 


FORMAL  FEELINGS.  177 

The  universal  or  vague  feelings  belong  almost  entirely 
to  the  lower  kind,  since,  having  their  root  in  an  indefinitely 
large  number  of  concepts,  they  elude  logical  analysis,  and 
vanish  mostly  without  our  aid. 

With  the  definite  feelings,  the  higher  must  be  expressly 
distinguished  from  the  lower.  The  former  rest  mainly  upon 
concepts  which  have  been  sifted  by  understanding  and  reason, 
whereas  the  latter  have  their  seat  more  in  sensations  and 
reproductions. 

To  the  higher  feelings  belong  in  particular  those  con- 
nected with  concepts  of  the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  the  good; 
then  with  concepts  about  God,  the  ego,  and  the  relations 
between  me  and  thee. 


\  67.  THE  UNIVERSAL,  OR  FORMAL  FEELINGS. 

The  most  universal  form  of  feeling  is  the  arrest  and 
furthering  of  concepts,  a  process  which  may  also  be  regarded 
from  the  standpoints  of  tension  and  relaxation,  diminution 
and  increase,  depression  and  elevation  of  mental  activity. 

The  universal  feelings  rest  upon  certain  modifications  of 
this  process  arising  from  the  accession  of  more  immediate 
circumstances.  These  modifications,  to  which  the  various 
kinds  of  universal  feelings  correspond,  are: 

1.  Retardation   and  acceleration  as  modification  of   the 
rhythmic  movement  of   concepts.     Music,  dancing,  conver- 
sation,  play,  may  bring  about  an  acceleration;   monotony, 
darkness,  stillness,  idleness,  a  retardation.     The  former  are 
associated  with  pleasure;    the  latter,  with  pain.     The  same 
actions  or  states  may  appear  as, 

2.  Oppression  and  relief,  the  first  being  brought  about 
by  the  rush  and  arrest  of  many  concepts  meeting  in  con- 
sciousness;   the  second,  by  the  removal  of   the  pressure;  a 


178  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

retardation  of  the  tension  being  produced  by  the  entrance 
of  decisive  apperceiving  concepts.     Related  to  this  are, 

3.  Exertion  and  over  coming  as  difficulty  and  ease  in  bring- 
r  ing  about  the  release.     If  by  means  of  a  problem,  a  predica- 
ment, a  lecture,  and  the  like,  more  is  assigned  to  us  than  we 
can  do,  at  least  for  the  moment,  we  have  the  painful  feeling 
of  severe  exertion.     If  we  succeed,  however,  in  finding  the 
solution  by  a  reference  of  the  new  to  the  old  (apperception), 
and  in  turning  our  thought  into  its  accustomed  channels,  we 
have  the  pleasurable  feeling  of   ease.     All  our  customary 
actions  are  performed  with  the  sense  of  ease.     In  connection 
with  these  activities  we  have,  then, 

4.  The  sense  of  poicer  and  of  helplessness  as  the  feeling 
of  superabundance  or  lack  of  personal  capacity,  according  as 
the  solution  of  the  problem  before  us  is  performed  with  ease 
or  with  difficulty.     In  these  feelings  vital  sensation  has  an 
important  part,  since  power  is  originally  merely  physical, 
and  a  feeling  of  power  is  conditioned  by  the  presence  of  a 
certain  degree  of  bodily  health1).    With  this  are  connected, 

5.  The  feelings  of  labor,  of  recreation,  and  of  play.    The 
feeling  of  labor  is  a  painful  one,  which  arises  in  consequence 
of  the  continuous  pressure  of  one  and  the  same  mass  of  labor 
concepts,  and  is  painful  in  proportion  as  the  labor  is  offensive 
to  us,  that  is,  the  more  these  concepts  stand  in  opposition 
to  our  ruling  ones. 

The  pleasure  of  recreation  is  characterized  by  the  throw- 
ing off  of  labor,  in  which  the  labor  concepts  are  made  to 
yield.  Play  is  connected  with  pleasurable  feelings  because 
one  busies  himself  with  things  only  so  long  as  they  please, 
and  have  no  trace  of  labor. 

6.  Agreement  and  strife,  confusion  and  order,  reflection 
and  investigation,  are  universal  feelings  of  a  similar  kind, 


1)  The  pleasure  found  in  riding,  scuffling,  wrestling  and  boxing, 
is  to  be  explained  through  this  increase  in  the  feeling  of  power. 


SENSUOUS  FEELINGS.  179 

which  in  a  certain  sense  form  the  transition  to  the  higher,  or 
intellectual  feelings  and  which  rest  essentially  upon  the  logical 
quality  of  our  consciousness,  whereby  order  is  more  pleasing 
to  us  than  confusion,  agreement  than  strife. 

The  above  named  feelings  deserve  the  name  universal, 
since  they  are  independent  of  a  special  content  in  the  con- 
cepts. 

Remark — The  feelings  of  labor  and  recreation  are  especially 
Important,  since  our  whole  life  is  bound  up  in  the  rhythm  between 
the  two.  During  the  time  of  labor  there  is  a  certain  ruling  mass  of 
concepts  in  the  soul  of  the  laborer  which  involves  in  itself  the  idea  of 
the  end  desired,  and  of  the  means  to  this  end.  This  mass  of  labor 
concepts  rules  the  consciousness  more  or  less  during  the  time  of  labor, 
and  therefore  exercises  an  increasing  pressure  upon  the  other  con- 
cepts which  press  into  the  consciousness  of  the  laborer,  and  which 
pertain  to  other  pursuits,  interests,  and  lines  of  thought.  If  the  labor 
is  laid  aside,  its'accompanying  concepts  retire  and  others  take  their 
place — the  man  rests.  This  recreation,  which  consists  in  freedom 
from  the  burden  of  labor,  is  merely  negative,  mere  relaxation;  should 
this  continue  long,  the  emptiness  which  it  implies  would  bring  about 
a  retardation  of  the  course  of  thought,  which  would  be  as  oppressive 
as  the  labor  was.  For  this  reason  a  positive  recreation  must  be  sought, 
which  brings  new  concept  masses  to  consciousness,  but  which  will 
exercise  no  oppression  upon  the  mind,  because  of  their  change.  Plays 
especially  attract  us  on  account  of  their  manifold  variety  of  situa- 
tions. Entertainment  seeks  to  free  us  from  the  monotony  of  ennui 
by  means  of  sports,  of  spontaneous,  enlivening  conversation,  of  par- 
ticipation in  light  games,  festivities,  or  through  giving  the  mind  up 
to  the  enjoyment  of  art,  etc.  As  unconstrained  employment  it  is  the 
opposite  of  labor,  which  is  never  free  from  a  certain  element  of  con- 
straint. 

g  68.  SENSUOUS  FEELINGS. 

To  the  definite,  or  particular  feelings  of  the  lower  class 
belong  first  of  all  the  feelings  which  are  connected  with  the 
various  sensations,  and  which  may  be  called  the  sensuous 
feelings. 


180  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Those  sensations  of  the  lower  senses  which  have  posi- 
tive tone,  as  well  as  the  body-sensations,  are  reflected  in  our 
consciousness  as  obscure  sense  feelings. *)  The  pleasures  of 
the  gormand  do  not  rest  alone  upon  sensations  of  taste,  but 
also  upon  feelings  which  precede,  accompany,  and  follow  the 
sense  impression.  The  variations  of  the  vital  sensations  have 
a  strong  influence  upon  our  feelings. 

But  those  sensations  of  the  higher  senses  having  the 
most  positive  tone,  as  those  of  color  and  sound,  are  in  them- 
selves accompanied  by  sensuous  feelings.  In  order  properly 
to  appreciate  the  specific  effect  of  these  feelings  which  even 
the  various  colors  and  sounds  arouse  in  the  mind,  we  must 
abstract  from  all  aesthetic  impressions,  which  belong  to  the 
higher  realms  of  feeling;  and,  farther,  from  all  accessory  feel- 
ings which  arise  through  reproductions. 

The  pleasure  in  the  sense  of  sight  reveate  itself  in  the 
pleasure  we  take  in  light  and  color,  while  darkness  and  imper- 
fect colors,  by  which  we  understand  all  dim,  unsatisfactory, 
confused  impressions  of  color,  are  accompanied  by  unpleas- 
ant feelings.  The  moderate  light  of  day,  the  mild  light  of 
the  full  moon,  the  soft  light  of  the  heavens,  also  the  fires  of 
celebration  upon  the  hills  (Johannis  Feuer),  the  gleam  of  illu- 
minations, the  splendor  of  fireworks,  awaken  in  man  the 
pleasure  in  light,  whereas  the  darkness  of  the  night  and  of 
the  prison  cell  lies  heavy  upon  the  soul. 

From  the  pleasure  arising  from  light  in  general,  we  must 
distinguish  the  specific  impression  which  individual,  full,  rich 
colors  produce  upon  the  mind,  and  whose  importance  Goethe 


1)  It  is  not  here  asserted  that  the  sensuous  feeling  is  identical 
with  the  "tone  of  the  sensation,"  as  is  sometimes  assumed.  The  sen' 
suous  feeling  proceeds  from  the  sensation  having  tone,  and  shares 
with  it  the  characteristic  obscurity  and  essentially  also  the  same  tone. 
But  at  the  same  time  it  is  separable  from  the  sensation  and  may  assume 
the  opposite  tone.  There  are  moments  when  even  wounds  do  not 
pain,  and  there  are  others  when  the  best  of  wine  is  not  pleasant  ta 
the  taste.  The  sensation  is  present,  but  the  feeling  is  not. 


SENSUOUS  FEELINGS.  181 

has  pointed  out  in  his  theory  of  colors.  Physically,  this 
impression  is  dependent  upon  the  wave-length  and  the  inten- 
sity of  the  prevailing  homogeneous  light  which  produces  it — 
physiologically,  upon  the  individual  and  momentary  state  of 
the  optic  nerves,  and  the  relation  of  this  state  to  the  quanti- 
tative and  qualitative  light  stimulus — psychologically,  upon 
the  numberless  obscure  minor  concepts  which  in  accordance 
with  experience  have  become  associated  with  the  various 
colors.  "The  clear,  bright,  cheerful,  charming  quality" 
which  is  ascribed  to  yellow  stands  in  evident  connection  with 
its  medium  length  of  wave  and  its  great  intensity  of  light. 

The  special  energy  and  power  of  excitation  which  are 
ascribed  to  red,  and  which  even  excite  the  turkey  cock,  cor- 
respond to  the  maximum  wave-length  belonging  to  this  color, 
aside  from  the  fact  that  red  is  the  color  of  fire  and  of  blood. 
Blue,  standing  as  the  opposite  end  of  the  spectrum,  is  char- 
acterized by  the  opposite  qualities1).  Yet  a  wide  realm  is 
open  to  the  imagination  regarding  the  specific  effect  of  color, 
which  is  fondly  explored  by  poets  and  even  by  mystics. 

Tone,  like  color,  affects  our  sensibilities.  The  pleasure 
in  light  and  color  is?  analogous  to  that  in  tone  and  sound. 
Stillness  depresses  like  darkness,  because  it  retards  the  course 
of  our  representation;  full,  pure,  prolonged  tones  affect  us 
like  full,  rich  colors.  With  regard  to  the  special  effect  of 
sound,  the  high  tones  appear  analogous  to  bright  colors  and 
deep  tones  to  dark  colors.  How  indescribably  peculiar  the 


1)  Habit,  remembrance,  and  even  fashion  may  here  contribute 
much.  The  fashion  of  the  times,  answering  to  the  blast  condition  of 
so  many  people,  turns  from  the  full  colors,  in  the  toilette,  toward 
defective  colors,  in  particular  toward  gray,  black,  and  mixed  colors, 
The  man  who,  being  born  blind,  receives  his  eyesight  through  an 
operation,  hates  black  because  it  reminds  him  of  his  former  night. 
Hofbauer's  patient  of  this  kind  had  the  greatest  pleasure  in  the  red  of 
the  rose.  The  rose  bushes  in  the  garden  where  his  bands  were  first 
removed  were  in  full  bloom,  and  the  red  of  the  rose  gave  the  first 
greeting  of  light  to  his  eyes.  (Compare  the  attractive  exposition  in 
Nahlowsky's  "Gefiihlsleben.") 


182  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

effect  of  tone  is  upon  the  mind,  is  proved  by  the  impression 
which  the  human  voice,  by  means  of  mere  intonation,  aside 
from  other  aesthetic  or  spiritual  factors,  is  able  under  certain 
circumstances  to  exert  upon  us. 

Remark  1.— Regarding  the  subjective  effect  of  color,  Goethe's 
theory  of  color  is  not  yet  antiquated.  In  order  to  investigate  this 
effect,  one  must,  with  Goethe,  surround  himself  with  a  single  color, 
remain  in  a  room  of  one  color  or  look  only  through  colored  gla—i  -. 
Then  one  identifies  himself  entirely  with  this  color;  eye  and  mind 
are  thereby  brought  into  unison.  There  is  a  plus  and  a  minus  side 
upon  Goethe's  scale  of  colors.  The  positive  colors,  yellow,  orange, 
vermilion,  attune  to  activity,  liveliness,  endeavor;  the  negative 
colors,  blue,  violet,  and  purple,  attune  us  to  quiet,  gentleness,  longing. 
In  the  middle  stands  the  green,  which  is  indifferent. 

Remark  2. — Professor  Nahlowsky  has  sought  to  place  the  timbre 
or  tone-color  of  sounds  parallel  with  the  color  of  light.  According  to 
him  the  clear  sound  of  the  reed  pipe  corresponds  to  yellow;  the  flute 
tones  coming  from  afar,  to  sky  blue;  the  sharper,  more  penetrating 
tone  of  the  piccolo,  to  orange;  the  hautboy,  especially  fitted  to  express 
yearning,  to  violet;  the  inspiring  trumpet,  to  bright  red;  the  majestic 
sounding  trombone,  to  purple;  the  silencing  tone  of  the  forest  horn, 
to  indifferent  green  (Compare  "Das  Gefiihlsleben"  by  Nahlowsky.) 


\  69.  OTHER  LOWER  FEELINGS. 

A  second  group  of  special  feelings  of  the  lower  order 
arises  from  the  interaction  of  sensations  and  reproductions. 

The  simplest  example  of  this  is  the  feeling  of  pleasure 
in  the  recognition  of  an  object.  The  sense-perception  is  inten- 
sified by  the  corresponding  reproduced  concept  of  the  object, 
and  this  activity  becomes  noticeable  as  the  pleasure  of  recog- 
nition. When  amid  a  crowd  of  strangers  we  meet  a  familiar 
face,  or  in  a  strange  neighborhood  we  come  upon  a  well-known 
path,  we  have  this  feeling.  J> 

1)  This  feeling  is  noticeable  in  animals;   for  instance,  the  joy  of 
the  dog  at  the  recognition  of  his  master. 


OTHER  LOWER  FEELINGS.  183 

Closely  related  are  the  feelings  of  expectation,  and  the 
occurrence  of  an  expected  event.  Expectation  is  the  antici- 
pation of  a  future  event  on  the  part  of  the  imagination,  which 
hastens  on  before  it.  The  reproduced  concept  of  the  future 
event  is  intensified  by  a  number  of  furthering  concepts,  or 
arrested  by  the  opposing  perception  of  the  reality,  for  the 
result  is  not  yet  come  to  pass.  Since  these  furthering  con- 
cepts oppose  the  arrest,  expectation  is  associated  with  feel- 
ings of  pain.  The  concept  of  the  expected  result  is  constantly 
furthered  by  the  helping  concepts,  only  to  be  again  arrested 
by  opposing  ones.  Thus,  he  who  awaits  an  event  con- 
stantly rolls  up  the  stone  of  Sisyphus,  which  as  constantly 
rolls  back  again.  The  curtain  in  a  theater  should  rise,  but 
it  does  not;  the  train  should  arrive  at  the  depot,  but  still  its 
approach  is  not  heard;  the  eclipse  of  the  sun  should  begin, 
but  the  face  of  the  sun  is  not  darkened.  As  soon  as  the 
expected  event  does  occur,  actuality  and  expectation  coincide, 
and  from  this  coincidence  of  the  two  proceeds  the  feeling  of 
pleasure. 

Analogous  to  the  above  are  the  feelings  arising  from 
searching  and  finding;  only  here  the  object  is  not  passively 
awaited,  but  is  actively  sought  through  all  manner  of  actions, 
so  that  the  oppressive  feeling  of  ennui  which  accompanies 
expectation  is  avoided. 

Where  the  desired  result  is  an  activity,  the  feelings  of 
success  or  of  failure  arise.  The  activity  is  here  mediated  by 
a  concept  series,  which  mirrors  beforehand  the  various  stages 
of  the  activity,  and  whose  final  member  is  the  concept  of  the 
result  to  be  brought  about.  If,  now,  the  individual  stages 
of  the  concept  series  correspond  to  the  actually  progressing 
activity,  and  especially  to  the  final  result,  we  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  success,  which  accompanies  the  skillful  laborer  as  well 
as  the  skillful  player.  But  if  concept  and  result  do  not  cor- 
respond, we  have  the  depressing  sense  of  failure.  Hence 


184  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

the  interest  in  games  of  skill  (billiards,  sharpshooting,  hunt- 
ing); hence,  also,  the  moral  recompense  which  productive 
labor,  whatever  it  may  be,  brings  to  the  active  worker. 

The  given  illustrations  are  only  examples  of  the  num- 
berless special  feelings  which  arise  from  the  interaction  of 
sensations  and  reproductions  in  the  course  of  our  mental  life. 
An  exhaustive  classification  of  them  is  hardly  conceivable, 
since  feelings  may  be  associated  with  every  combination  of 
simultaneous  concepts. 


5  70.   HIGHER  FEELINGS. 

Higher  feelings  have  this  peculiarity,  that  they  depend 
not  so  much  upon  the  subjective  state  of  mind,  as  upon  the 
valid  and  necessary  quality  of  what  is  felt.  Here,  therefore, 
we  may  point  out  the  objects  to  which  they  relate,  as  well  as 
distinguish  the  special  content  of  the  feelings.  Such  objects 
are  above  all  the  TRUE,  the  GOOD,  and  the  BEAUTIFUL  (then, 
also,  our  own  ego  and  other  egos). 

The  possibility  of  such  feelings  rests  upon  the  fact  that 
there  are  objects  which  are  compounded,  and  whose  parts 
have  such  a  harmonious  or  unharmonious  relation  to  one 
another  that  one  needs  only  to  give  himself  up  freely  to  -their 
apprehension  in  order  to  experience  a  furthering  or  an  arrest 
of  mental  activity.  Man's  consciousness  is  of  course  the 
theater  of  these  feelings;  but  the  furthering  or  checking  con- 
cepts involved  do  not  come  together  by  accident,  but  are 
rather  already  given  with  the  object  in  their  harmonious  or 
inharmonious  relations,  without  the  need  of  any  subjective 
contribution. 

Such  an  object  we  find  in  TRUTH,  with  its  antitheses 
falsehood  and  doubt,  which  together  form  the  object  of  the 
intellectual  feelings  of  pleasure  or  pain.  Truth  is  the  agree- 


HIGHER  FEELINGS.  185 

merit  of  all  our  knowledge  with  itself,  the  parts  with  the  whole, 
the  subjects  with  their  predicates.  This  agreement  is  not 
only  known  through  the  understanding,  but  is  felt  as  pleas- 
ure in  the  truth.  The  further  we  advance  within  the  borders 
of  truth,  the  more  does  this  feeling  appear  as  pleasure  in 
investigation.  But  on  the  contrary,  where  we  fall  into  con- 
tradictions with  our  notions,  out  of  which  we  see  no  way; 
where  we  see  unsolved  problems  before  us,  or  where  the  objects 
of  our  inmost  conviction  are  doubted  or  denied,  there  we 
shall  not  fail  to  find  intellectual  feelings  of  pain. 

The  harmony  of  truth  with  itself  is  the  source  of  our 
intellectual  feeling  of  pleasure;  yet  to  perceive  this  har- 
mony is  given  only  to  him  who  does  not  spare  himself  the 
trouble  of  investigation  within  the  borders  of  its  objects, 
which  are  mostly  abstract.  But  there  is  a  class  of  objects 
which  are  not  abstract  but  sensuous,  and  which  manifest  such 
harmony  of  parts  that  every  unbiased  observer  experiences 
a  feeling  of  pleasure  when  he  yields  himself  to  their  contem- 
plation in  such  a  way  that  this  harmony  appeals  imme- 
diately to  the  senses.  Such  objects  are  called  beautiful,  and 
the  feeling  to  which  they  give  rise  is  the  feeling  of  the  beau- 
tiful, or  the  assthetic  feeling. 

The  beautiful  is  distinguished  from  the  true  on  account 
of  its  sense  side,  and  in  the  ease  with  which  every  unbiased 
observer  is  able  to  apprehend  the  harmony  revealed  in  its 
composition.  The  relation  between  the  three  sides  of  the 
right-angled  triangle,  which  the  Pythagorean  theorem  reveals, 
shows  a  wonderfully  harmonious  relation  existing  among 
them;  but  this  relation  is  not  beautiful,  because  a  look  at  the 
right-angled  triangle  does  not  reveal  it;  only  a  tedious  cal- 
culation makes  it  an  object  of  knowledge.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  agreement  of  the  octave  with  the  key-note  is  beautiful, 
for  we  can  hear  it;  and  the  harmony  among  the  parts  of  the 
perfect  human  form,  for  we  can  see  it. 


186  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

The  ugly  is  the  opposite  of  the  beautiful.  Objects  are 
called  ugly  when  in  the  composition  of  their  parts  instead  of 
agreement  or  harmony,  we  find  the  opposite,  and  in  such  a 
way  that  this  disharmony  appeals  immediately  to  the  senses. 
An  object  which  is  not  beautiful,  is  not  on  this  account  ugly; 
it  may  be  aesthetically  indifferent.  A  block  of  stone  is 
neither  beautiful  nor  ugly,  but  may  become  either  when  formed 
by  the  sculptor.  Every  child  perceives  that  a  statue  with 
a  hand  broken  off  is  ugly,  because  the  harmony  of  the  parts 
is  disturbed.  Just  as  the  false  is  related  to  the  true,  so  the 
ugly  is  to  the  beautiful. 


\  71.   INTELLECTUAL  FEELINGS. 

Elementary  intellectual  feelings  are  those  which  accom- 
pany the  activity  of  judging  (§  49).  The  stage  of  reflection 
is  characterized  by  painful,  and  that  of  decision  by  pleasur- 
able feelings. 

The  reflection  consists  in  the  vacillation  of  the  recipro- 
cally opposing  predicate  concepts  in  connection  with  a  sta- 
tionary, but  still  indistinct  subject  concept.  This  equipoise 
of  vacillation  is  only  sustained  by  the  like  distribution  of 
the  grounds  of  judgment  among  the  manifold  predicate  con- 
cepts, and  is  therefore  a  struggle  for  synthesis  with  the  sub- 
ject. The  tension  and  the  thronging  of  concepts,  no  one 
of  which  is  able  to  rise  to  the  degree  of  clearness  requisite  for 
the  final  determination  of  the  subject,  reveal  themselves  as 
the  feeling  of  indecision,  on  account  of  the  preponderating 
arrest  of  mental  movement.  When  important  theoretical  and 
practical  consequences  are  attached  to  the  conclusion,  when 
accordingly  whole  groups  of  concepts  are  involved  in  the 
struggle  of  reflection,  the  feeling  of  indecision  may  give  rise 
to  great  agitation. 


INTELLECTUAL  FEELINGS.  187 

This  is  particularly  the  case  with  doubt,  which  is  indeed 
only  a  continuous,  protracted  reflection.  Theoretical  doubt 
has  found  a  poetical  personification  in  Goethe's  Faust:  and 
practical  doubt,  in  Shakspeare's  Hamlet. 

If  the  impartial  division  of  furthering  concepts  among 
the  predicate  concepts  is  altered  in  favor  of  one  of  the  latter, 
the  decision  is  brought  about.  The  furthering  of  the  favored 
predicate  concept  is  perceived  as  the  pleasure  of  decision. 
Doubt  is  overcome — truth  is  here. 

Intellectual  feeling  as  a  whole  is  that  which  becomes 
associated  with  the  gradual  growth  of  our  convictions  and 
with  the  progress  of  our  scientific  knowledge.  This  feeling 
rests  upon  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  our  newly  gained 
notions  and  judgments  with  the  totality  of  our  acquired 
knowledge  and  convictions.  The  assimilation  of  the  new  with 
the  old  is  accomplished  through  apperception.  The  easier 
this  apperception  is,  the  better  the  new  fits  into  the  frame 
of  the  old,  the  livelier  will  be  the  feelings  of  pleasure  asso- 
ciated with  this  activity.  On  the  contrary,  the  greater  the 
disagreement  between  repulsive  individual  ideas  and  judg- 
ments and  the  totality  of  our  present  convictions,  the  more 
intense  will  be  the  feelings  of  pain  which  will  then  arise. 

The  disagreement,  and  with  it  the  feeling  of  pain,  reaches 
its  highest  degree  of  intensity  when  the  older,  more  estab- 
lished masses  of  concepts  which  as  the  principles  of  our 
theoretical  and  practical  reflection  have  thus  far  prevailed  as 
apperceiving  forces,  are  themselves  apperceived  by  means  of 
newly  entering,  more  recent  masses  of  concepts;  in  other 
words,  when  the  course  of  apperception  is  reversed.  This 
occurs  when  one  gives  up  his  faith,  changes  his  principles, 
or  places  himself  upon  an  entirely  different  standpoint  in 
regard  to  the  problems  of  life.  Such  a  mental  conflict 
would  naturally  be  associated  with  great  agitations  of  mind 
(8  45). 


188  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

From  true  intellectual  feelings,  which  accompany  the 
clear  grasp  of  truth  and  the  graduated  progress  toward  it, 
must  be  distinguished  that  obscure  sense  of  truth  which 
arrives  at  the  right  conclusion  without  ever  becoming  con- 
scious  of  logical  relations  (instinct  for  truth). 

Remark. — The  feelings  associated  with  reflection  and  decision 
deserve  the  name  Intellectual  only  when  the  reflection  is  free  from 
every  subordinate  selfish  interest,  when  it  is  inspired  only  by  the 
desire  for  truth.  These  feelings,  as  the  pure  and  refined  love  of 
truth,  reached  their  culmination  in  the  philosophy  of  Socrates.  Phil- 
osophical speculation  is  the  opposite  of  the  commercial;  the  feelings 
associated  with  the  latter  can  not  be  enumerated  among  intellectual 
feelings;  for  they  proceed  immediately  from  the  satisfaction  of  desires 
for  gain, — not  the  acquisition  of  the  truth,  but  that  of  material  goods. 


\  72.   ESTHETIC  FEELINGS. 

The  assthetic  feelings  are  feelings  of  the  unconditioned 
valuation  of  an  object,  arising  from  its  direct  apprehension 
by  the  senses,  and  free  from  all  subordinate  external  inter- 
ests, which  announces  itself  as  pleasure  in  the  beautiful  or 
displeasure  in  the  ugly. 

In  that  this  valuation  is  an  unconditioned  one,  it  is  dis- 
tinguished from  that  of  the  useful,  in  which  the  object  is 
preferred,  not  for  itself  alone,  but  from  other  reasons,  *.  e., 
conditionally;  in  that  it  is  free  from  all  external  subordinate 
interest,  it  is  distinguished  from  that  of  desire,  which  lends 
to  objects  a  very  changeable  value,  dependent  upon  transi- 
tory states  of  mind;  in  that  for  every  unbiased  observer  it  is 
easily  made  upon  a  direct  sense  apprehension,  the  valuation 
of  the  beautiful  is  distinguished  from  the  estimation  of  the 
true,  which  latter  leads  to  intellectual  pleasure  only  through 
the  changes  of  reflection  and  through  abstract  thought,  pain- 
ful to  some  extent. 


ESTHETIC  FEELINGS.  189 

Esthetic  feeling  is  distinguished  from  the  feeling  of  the 
agreeable  and  disagreeable  in  the  fact  that  the  latter  is  a 
sensuous  feeling,  clinging  to  the  individual  sense  impression, 
and  hence  not  separable  from  it — whereas  the  aesthetic  feel- 
ing as  something  higher  does  not  depend  upon  the  content  of 
the  individual,  but  upon  the  form  of  the  composite,  yet  is  by 
no  means  so  intimately  connected  with  it  as  not  to  be  sepa- 
rable from  its  material  content  and  capable  of  being  analyzed 
in  thought.  The  agreeable  in  sugar  is  precisely  the  sensa- 
tion which  it  occasions;  no  new  element  is  here  added,  but 
the  sensation  is  identical  with  its  content.  The  beauty  of  a 
musical  accord,  on  the  contrary,  is  different  from  the  individ- 
ual tones,  and  can  only  be  predicated  by  their  synthesis;  the 
beauty  of  an  architectural  structure  does  not  lie  in  the  stones, 
but  in  a  certain  regular  arrangement  of  them.  Regarding 
the  agreeable,  we  are  not  able  logically  to  give  the  ground 
of  our  pleasure,  because  we  have  here  to  do  only  with  a  sin- 
gle thing,  which  eludes  all  logical  analysis,  whereas  with  the 
beautiful  we  are  able  through  reflection  to  find  this  ground 
in  the  relations  of  the  aesthetic  object  *). 

This  is  actually  the  case  in  aesthetic  criticism.  Here  we 
must  distinguish,  not  only  whether  the  object  is  beautiful 
or  ugly,  but  also  to  what  extent  it  is  the  one  or  the  other. 
This  is  done  by  analyzing  into  its  elements  the  sum  of  feel- 
ing which  is  awakened  in  an  unbiased  observer,  and  by  point- 
ing out  the  relations  which  give  rise  to  them. 

But  such  an  analysis  as  the  art  critic  makes  in  passing 
judgment  upon  a  work  of  art  is  by  no  means  a  condition  of 
aesthetic  enjoyment.  ^Esthetic  feeling  of  pleasure  arises 


1)  Herbart  expressly  remarks  that  "also  that  which  is  perceived 
in  the  feelings  of  the  agreeable  and  its  opposite  is  synthesized  from 
partial  concepts  which  can  not  be  separated  from  one  another  in  con- 
sciousness, which,  however,  stand  among  themselves  in  relations  sim- 
ilar to  those  of  partial  concepts  in  the  case  of  aesthetic  objects." 
(Psych.  II.  p.  110.) 


190  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

rather  as  the  result  of  satisfaction  and  harmony  coming  into 
our  consciousness  from  the  beautiful  object  itself,  even  where 
the  originating  concepts  have  not  risen  through  apperception 
to  that  degree  of  clearness  demanded  in  adequate  critical 
valuation  of  a  work  of  art.  "Without  understanding  the 
architectural  plan  of  a  Gothic  cathedral,  we  perceive  the  im- 
posing effect  of  the  pointed  arch  with  inward  satisfaction; 
and  without  the  faintest  suspicion  of  the  hidden  laws  of 
harmony,  we  have,  upon  hearing  a  piece  of  classical  music, 
the  feeling  that  all  should  remain  as  it  is,  thus  arriving  at 
the  same  result  as  that  to  which  the  critic  comes  after  careful 
examination  of  details. 

Remark  1. — The  simple  is  neither  beautiful  nor  ugly.  The  single 
tone,  the  mathematical  point,  the  simple  color,  are  indifferent  objects. 
But  where  two  tones  are  heard  together  or  in  succession,  there  arises 
in  addition  to  their  apprehension  a  feeling  having  an  aesthetic  nature. 
However,  the  repetition  of  one  and  the  same  tone  without  interrup- 
tion or  at  equal  intervals  calls  forth  rather  weariness  than  pleasure. 
The  individual  parts  of  a  pleasing  whole  may  not  therefore  be  abso- 
lutely alike,  but  must  rather  be  different;  yet  despite  this  difference, 
they  must  agree  with  one  another,  that  is,  must  form  a  unit.  This 
unity  in  difference,  this  agreement  among  the  manifold,  this  concord 
of  the  different,  is  called  harmony,  a  term  borrowed  from  music. 
Harmony  is  therefore  agreement  where  there  might  have  been  dis- 
cord. The  greater  the  conflict  is,  which  finds  its  reconciliation  in  the 
beautiful  parts;  the  more  the  parts  originally  tend  to  separation, 
which  are  harmoniously  brought  together  in  the  work  of  art,  the  more 
does  this  agreement  make  itself  felt  to  the  apprehending  spirit  as 
beauty.  The  octave  is  too  nearly  identical  with  the  key-note,  appear- 
ing as  its  mere  repetition,  to  call  forth  aesthetic  pleasure  upon  being 
sounded  with  it.  When,  on  the  contrary,  tones  which  are  originally 
discordant  are  brought  together  into  an  accord,  or  where  different 
chords  are  blended  into  a  greater  totality  of  tone,  this  reconciliation 
of  differences  is  especially  apparent.  This  explains  the  resolution 
of  dissonance  in  a  piece  of  music,  as  well  as  the  harmonizing  of  con- 
flict in  that  species  of  the  beautiful  which  is  called  the  tragic.  Since 
the  simple  is  everywhere  aesthetically  indifferent,  relations  must  form 
the  object  of  aesthetic  preference  or  rejection;  with  tones  it  is  the 


AESTHETIC  FEELING.  191 

relation  of  the  numbers  expressing  their  vibrations  which  decides 
regarding  their  harmony  or  discord.  The  simpler  this  relation  is 
(1:2  in  the  octave),  the  more  easily  is  the  harmony  perceived,  the 
more  complete  is  the  agreement.  With  forms  also  it  is  measurement 
which  produces  the  aesthetic  impression.  For  example,  the  pleasure 
in  normally  developed  human  forms  is  produced  only  by  the  deter- 
minate harmonious  relations  of  measurement  in  which  the  various 
parts  stand  to  each  other;  e.  g.,  the  height,  length  of  arm  and  leg, 
size  of  head,  angle  of  the  face,  etc.  Though  not  clearly  conscious 
of  this  exact  measurement  (Albrecht  Diirer  has  made  the  proportions 
of  the  human  body  a  special  study  in  his  works),  we  yet  perceive 
their  effect  very  clearly  in  our  feeling.  Architecture  also  employs 
these  pleasing  and  determinate  proportions,  as  is  seen  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  columns,  in  round  and  pointed  arches.  The  measure  of  the 
meter  in  poetry,  the  rhythm  in  music,  which,  in  accordance  with  fixed 
relations,  divides  the  time  in  which  the  musical  tones  occur,  depend 
also  upon  numerical  measurements. 

Remark  2. — On  account  of  its  sensuous  externality,  by  means  of 
which  its  apprehension  is  so  easy,  the  beautiful  is  especially  fitted  to 
affect  the  sensibilities  of  man,  and  by  appealing  to  the  senses  to  raise 
him  to  higher  things.  Nature  in  her  visible  forms  manifests  much 
of  the  beautiful.  The  landscapes  of  nature,  the  starry  heavens,  the 
regularity  of  crystals,  and  the  organic  creations  are  beautiful.  But  the 
beautiful  of  nature  often  eludes  human  grasp,  because  the  regularity 
in  natural  forms  and  processes  is  often  too  obscure,  often  too  compli- 
cated, often  too  greatly  extended  in  space  and  time,  for  sensuous 
apprehension.  Therefore  the  production  of  the  beautiful  has  ever 
been  the  end  of  art,  which  tries  through  creative  activity  to  beautify 
life,  to  elevate  the  mind  above  crude  sensuousness  and  to  make  it 
receptive  for  a  higher  ideal  world.  The  fine  arts  show  that  matter 
and  sensuousness  are  not  the  ends  in  life,  but  only  means  for  higher, 
supersensuous  ends.  Even  the  savage  mind,  buried  in  gross  sen- 
suality, is  affected  by  the  wonderful  power  of  tones,  and  stirred 
by  the  inspiring  representations  of  art.  (Cranes  of  Ibycus — Saul  and 
David.) 

1 73.    AESTHETIC  FEELING  IN   ITS   ELEMENTS  AND  AS  A 
WHOLE.    FORM  AND  CONTENT  OF  THE  BEAUTIFUL. 

The   elementary  aesthetic   feeling  is  that  which   arises 
through  the  apprehension  of  pleasing  or  displeasing  relations 


193  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

of  a  fundamental  nature;  the  aesthetic  feeling  as  a  total  is, 
on  the  other  hand,  that  which  proceeds  from  the  united  effect 
of  many  such  relations  harmoniously  blended  in  one  and  the 
same  space  or  time  object. 

Two  parallel  lines,  the  round  or  the  pointed  arch,  the 
consonance  between  two  tones,  the  symmetry  of  an  object, 
the  rhyme  and  the  meter  in  poetry,  etc. ,  are  pleasing  funda- 
mental relations  which  excite  our  simplest  aesthetic  feelings. 

In  the  form  of  a  tree  or  the  facade  of  a  house  we  find  the 

> 

relations  of  symmetry  united — in  a  poem  we  find  the  meter 
and  rhyme  producing  a  general  effect,  which  calls  forth  our 
aesthetic  feeling  as  a  whole.  The  union  of  a  number  of  funda- 
mental aesthetic  relations  into  a  total  effect,  which  calls 
forth  the  pleasurable  feeling  of  harmony  in  every  unbiased 
observer,  can  not  arise  when  these  relations  are  confused, 
but  only  when  they  enter  upon  a  higher  unity  in  accordance 
with  some  definite  plan  or  some  idea. 

In  the  beauty  of  nature,  this  idea  appears  as  creative 
thought  in  the  arrangement  of  the  subject.  The  organic 
forms  of  plant  and  mineral  are  beautiful,  and  the  human 
form  is  the  most  beautiful.  In  vain  do  imagination  and  art 
attempt  to  surpass  nature  in  the  creation  of  beautiful  objects. 
Art  may  indeed  bring  together  into  special  groups  the  scat- 
tered members  of  the  beautiful  in  nature,  but  it  will  never 
succeed  in  surpassing  the  natural  archetypes.  The  highest 
productions  of  creative  imagination  in  the  plastic  art  are 
the  Olympian  gods;  but  they  bear  the  human  form;  every 
attempt  to  heighten  the  charm  of  the  human  figure  by  addi- 
tions not  accordant  with  nature  ends  in  sinking  into  that 
which  is  below  the  human. 

With  the  beautiful  of  art.  in  whose  portrayal  the  hand 
and  soul  of  the  artist  act  in  freedom,  the  idea  lying  at  the 
basis  of  the  whole  is  an  affair  of  the  artist's  conception — it 
is  the  Promethean  spark  which  reveals  the  form  of  the  work 


ESTHETIC  FEELING.  193 

of  art,  as  its  ideal  content.  It  is  this  idea  which  governs  the 
mental  state  of  the  artist  as  an  apperceiving  concept  during 
the  period  of  his  artistic  creation;  all  details  of  the  artistic 
total  must  be  subordinated  to  it.  Since  it  appears  as  the 
central  point  for  the  whole  of  these  relations,  it  may  be 
correctly  characterized  as  the  aesthetic  content  of  the  artistic 
product. 

The  apprehension  of  the  idea  lying  at  the  basis  of  the 
beautiful  object  as  the  aesthetic  content  of  the  natural  or 
artistic  whole  is  brought  to  our  subjective  perception  as  a 
system  of  harmonious  fundamental  relations,  through  the 
aesthetic  feeling  as  a  total. 

The  greater  the  sum  of  individual  aesthetic  relations, 
and  the  more  complex  their  combination  into  a  total  of  effect, 
the  higher  will  be  the  total  of  aesthetic  feeling  which  this 
object  produces  in  us. 

Remark  1. — It  is  Herbart's  undying  service  to  have  revealed  the 
secret  of  the  beautiful  by  pointing  out  the  fundamental  aesthetic  rela- 
tions. The  essence  of  the  beautiful  was  thus  placed  in  the  form  of 
the  object.  Whether  this  form  alone  comprises  the  basis  for  aesthetic 
pleasure,  or  whether  the  latter  is  not  rather  to  be  sought  in  the  com- 
tent  inclosed  by  this  form,  has  recently  formed  the  basis  for  a  lively 
controversy  between  the  Herbartian  school  and  the  adherents  of 
Schelling  and  Hegel.  This  controversy  is  easily  settled  by  the  expla- 
nations of  the  foregoing  paragraph.  The  beautiful  object  does  indeed 
affect  by  its  form,  but  the  form  is  itself  determined  by  the  content, 
or  the  idea.  Considered  by  itself,  the  idea  has  only  a  logical,  never 
an  aesthetical  character  (plan  of  a  house,  content  of  a  poem);  the 
idea  receives  an  aesthetic  character,  only  when  put  into  aesthetic  form. 
Even  the  musically  beautiful  can  not  entirely  free  itself  from  the 
content,  especially  in  the  higher  kinds  of  music  (sonata,  symphony, 
tone-pictures,  opera),  even  though  it  must  be  admitted  that  this  con- 
tent is  less  to  be  sought  in  a  clear,  logical  idea,  than  in  an  obscure 
harmony  of  soul  in  the  musician,  which  appeals  to  the  hearer  more  as 
a  matter  of  sensibility  than  as  one  of  logical  clearness. — The  Her- 
bartian school  have  shown  themselves  inclined  to  admit  the  content 
alongside  of  the  form  as  a  determining  element  in  the  beautiful. 


194  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

(Compare  the  excellent  treatment  of  this  matter  In  "Xahlowsky's 
Life  of  Feeling"  p.  181.) 

Remark  2. — The  relation  between  form  and  content,  as  well  as 
the  part  each  performs  in  the  whole  aesthetic  effect  in  various  arts 
and  art  works  is  very  different.  The  ideal  content  is  greater  in  speak- 
ing than  in  plastic  arts;  greater  in  the  latter  than  in  music,  in  which 
the  content  is  to  have  greater  value  with  the  so-called  musicians  of 
the  future  (See  the  controversy  between  C.  Hanslik — "Concerning  tho 
Musically  Beautiful,"  and  W.  Ambros — "Regarding  the  Boundaries 
Between  Music  and  Poetry");  it  is  greater  in  historical  pictures  than 
in  landscapes;  greater  in  the  drama  than  in  the  idyl;  greater  in 
Schiller  than  in  Goethe. 


\  74.  AESTHETIC  TASTE. 

A  judgment  through  which  the  attribute  beautiful  or 
ugly  is  ascribed  to  an  object  is  called  an  aesthetic  judgment. 
The  subject  of  such  a  judgment  is  a  concept  of  the  aesthetic 
object,  which  must  be  synthesized  as  such;  the  predicate  is 
the  (esthetic  feeling. 

According  as  this  feeling  is  elementary  or  total,  the 
judgment  is  elementary  or  general.  The  faculty  of  aesthetic 
judgment  is  called  taste. 

The  aesthetic  judgment  has  an  original  self-evidence;  for 
the  predicate  contains  as  feeling  that  which  the  subject  pre- 
sents as  mere  concept.  Here  is  revealed  the  progress  in- 
volved in  the  aesthetic  apprehension  of  an  object  in  compar- 
ison with  the  merely  theoretical  apprehension.  The  latter 
pauses  with  the  logical  separation  of  the  content  of  the  con- 
cept; the  former  goes  further  and  adds  feeling  as  a  new 
element.  '  •  He  who  sees  nothing  in  a  picture  but  the  painted 
canvas  has  not  seen  the  picture. " 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  the  predicate  of  the 
aesthetic  judgment  is  a  feeling,  there  must  be  ascribed  to 
this  judgment  an  absolute  validity,  which  is  independent  of 
the  variations  of  subjective  states  of  mind.  This  may  be  seen 


AESTHETIC  TASTE.  195 

from  its  self-evident  character.  The  variations  in  the  aesthetic 
judgment  of  things  is  to  be  explained  through  the  fact  that 
with  the  pure  aesthetic  approval,  are  mixed  other  kinds  of 
valuation,  such  as  the  utilitarian,  the  agreeable,  and  even 
the  accidental.  The  aesthetic  apprehension  demands  that  the 
idea  of  the  aesthetic  object  as  a  whole  shall  be  freed  from  the 
other  changeable  and  accidental  elements  in  our  conscious- 
ness, and  regarded  solely  in  respect  to  its  effect  upon  the 
sensibilities — a  demand  which  in  truth  is  not  often  fully 
complied  with.  Instead  of  approaching  a  work  of  art  with 
unprejudiced  minds,  and  of  allowing  ourselves  to  be  led 
solely  by  the  beauty  of  its  form  in  our  estimate  of  its  aesthetic 
value,  we  approach  it  with  all  sorts  of  expectations,  and 
with  ruling  or  hastily  produced  apperceiving  concepts,  which 
unconsciously  to  us  influence  and  color  our  aesthetic  judg- 
ments— and  perhaps  allow  ourselves  to  speculate  upon  those 
effects  which  proceed  from  the  expense  of  the  material,  the 
richness  of  the  surroundings,  or  from  the  political,  religious, 
or  other  motives  contained  in  the  work  of  art.  Our  judgment 
is  then  no  longer  purely  aesthetic. 

On  account  of  this  mixing  of  aesthetic  approval  with 
subjective  expectations  and  the  ruling  ideas  of  the  day,  our 
aesthetic  taste  sinks  to  mere  love  of  fashion,  which  is  char- 
acterized by  extraordinary  relativity  and  changeableness. 
There  is  nothing  which  fashion  can  not  regard  as  beautiful. 
The  ugliness  of  that  which  fashion  pronounces  beautiful 
appears  when  we  pass  judgment  upon  modes  no  longer  fash- 
ionable. Notwithstanding  all  this,  the  absoluteness  of 
aesthetic  judgment  and  with  it  the  validity  of  aesthetic  taste 
remains.  All  that  is  needed  is  the  unbiased  state  of  the 
mind  as  a  subjective  condition  of  pure  aesthetic  apprehension, 
the  same  lack  of  prejudice  which  we  see  to  be  a  condition  for 
the  apprehension  of  the  true.  "Man  must  deny  himself;" 
that  is,  his  subjective  expectations,  inclinations,  selfish 


196  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

interests.     Then  only  should  he  attempt  the  apprehension  of 
the  true  or  the  beautiful. 

Remark. — If  truth  presupposes  a  pure,  unprejudiced,  dispas- 
sionate state  of  mind  for  its  apprehension,  this  is  demanded  in  a  still 
higher  degree 'in  the  case  of  beauty;  for,  the  essential  element  of 
the  beautiful,  with  which  it  overflows,  is  a  feeling,  that  is,  a  state  of 
the  mind;  but  objective  beauty  cannot  mirror  itself  in  a  mind  that  is 
excited  with  passion.  The  beautiful,  like  the  divine,  presupposes  a 
devout  frame  of  mind,  a  purified  heart  which  approaches  its  altar. 
The  uncultured  mind  seizes  the  object  (chiefly  through  the  lower 
senses),  in  order  to  make  it  a  means  for  the  satisfaction  of  desires;  it 
is  not  the  form,  but  the  material  of  the  object  which  is  preferred. 
^Esthetic  apprehension  leaves  the  object  untouched  which  it  ap- 
proaches, only  with  the  higher  senses  in  silent  devotion.  "Man  does 
not  desire  the  stars — he  rejoices  in  their  beauty"  (Goethe).  Not  with- 
out reason  is  religious  worship  blended  with  the  aesthetic,  especially 
in  the  Catholic  church.  What  has  been  said  holds  especially  in  regard 
to  sensibility  to  music,  and,  since  cause  and  effect  here  strengthen 
each  other,  to  its  purifying  power;  Shakspeare  remarks,  and  not  with- 
out reason: 

"The  man  that  hath  no  music  in  himself, 
Nor  is  not  moved  with  concord  of  sweet  sounds, 
Is  fit  for  treasons,  strategems,  and  spoils; 
Let  no  such  man  be  trusted." 

I  75.  MORAL  FEELINGS. 

Man  arrives  at  a  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  through  the 
reason.  Either  the  one  or  the  other  may  lead  to  feelings 
which  are  called  moral  feelings. 

The  source  of  these  feelings  is  the  harmony  or  lack  of 
harmony  of  the  will  with  its  ideals.  When  we  become  con- 
scious of  a  will  which  answers  to  its  ideal;  i.  e.,  is  consti- 
tuted as  it  should  be,  we  announce  an  approval  which  man- 
ifests itself  as  a  moral  feeling  of  pleasure.  Where,  on  the 
contrary,  acts  of  will  are  perceived  which  are  contrary  to  the 
moral  ideals,  this  contradiction  makes  itself  felt  as  a  moral 
feeling  of  pain. 


MORAL  FEELINGS.  197 

This  harmony  or  discord  with  moral  laws  may  be  observed 
in  others  as  well  as  in  ourselves.  We  may  distinguish,  there- 
fore,— 

THE    MORAL    FEELING 

N   -.,  f  1.   Tn  our  own  will. 

a)  Of  moral  harmony.    4  0    T     ,,        .„     .         ,, 

*     \  2.   In  the  will  of  another. 

7s   ^t  ,    ,.         -,       f  3.   In  our  own  will. 

o)  Of  moral  discord.     J.  .    T     ,,        .,,     ,        ,, 

(  4.   In  the  will  of  another. 

The  feeling  indicated  in  subdivision  1  flows  forth  as 
moral  peace  of  mind  from  the  approving  conscience  of  the 
man  of  character;  whereas  that  indicated  in  3  is  the  gnaw- 
ing of  conscience,  which  may  become  tormenting  self-con- 
demnation and  despair.  The  feelings  indicated  in  2  and  4 
appear  as  moral  admiration  or  moral  indignation  where  we 
come  upon  moral  greatness  or  moral  meanness,  upon  noble 
deeds  or  shameful  ones,  whether  in  life  or  in  poetry.  (Drama, 
epic  poem.  Burger's  "Song  of  the  Brave  Man" — "Lied 
vom  braven  Mann.") 

The  moral  feelings  are,  therefore,  nothing  more  than 
pleasure  in  the  good  and  pain  in  the  bad,  the  preference  of 
the  former  and  the  rejection  of  the  latter.  They  are  the 
feelings  by  which  the  eternal  and  unquenchable  demands  of 
conscience  appeal  to  our  minds. 

It  is  of  the  greatest  consequence  for  the  moral  condition 
of  man  that  he  should  not  remain  indifferent  to  the  good  and 
the  bad,  but  that  he  render  his  mind  sensitive  to  moral  feel- 
ings. This  sensibility,  upon  which  tenderness  of  conscience 
depends,  is  best  supported  by  the  contemplation  of  noble 
moral  characters,  which  bring  the  moral  ideas  before  us  in 
embodied  form,  and  compel  our  souls  to  moral  approval. J) 

1)  Art,  which  appeals  to  the  senses,  is  more  effective  than  abstract 
conceptions.  The  significance  of  (true)  theatrical  art  for  the  devel- 
opment of  moral  feelings  is  not  highly  enough  prized.  Here  the  good 
and  bad  characters  act  directly  before  our  eyes,  and  excite  us  to  moral 
admiration  or  moral  indignation.  Compare  Schiller's  excellent  mon- 
ograph, "The  Stage  Regarded  as  a  Moral  Institution."  "Die  Schau- 
bi'ihne  als  Moralischc  Anstalt." 


198  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark  1. — The  good  is  distinguished  from  the  beautiful  in  that 
the  object  of  aesthetic  judgment  in  the  latter  is  an  external  and  more 
or  less  indifferent  one  (as,  e.  g.,  colors,  stones,  tones,  words);  whereas 
with  the  good  this  object  is  the  will  of  man,  i.  e.,  the  man  himself. 
"While,  therefore,  the  representation  of  the  beautiful  in  the  various 
arts  can  not  in  general  become  a  duty,  no  one  can  escape  the  duty  of 
representing  the  moral  ideas  in  his  will  and  action.  When  one,  for 
instance,  is  a  poor  piano  player,  or  an  indifferent  poet,  he  can  ward 
off  the  condemning  judgment  regarding  his  artistic  actions  by  the 
remark  that  he  plays  or  writes  for  himself  and  that  he  could  abandon 
these  amusements;  but  when  he  is  a  bad  man,  he  must  suffer  others 
to  break  the  rod  of  judgment  over  him  and  pay  him  the  tribute  of 
contempt.  For  this  reason  the  good  is  infinitely  higher  than  the  beau- 
tiful, though  in  other  respects  intimately  connected  with  it. 

Remark  2. — The  moral  feeling  which  is  originally  a  simple 
approval  of  the  good,  and  condemnation  of  the  bad,  may,  under  differ- 
ent circumstances,  assume  different  forms.  It  manifests  itself  as 
esteem  or  contempt  in  the  case  of  the  moral  or  immoral  actions  of 
others;  as  a  feeling  of  justice  where  we  have  to  do  with  established 
rights;  as  a  feeling  of  honor  where  we  have  to  do  with  the  judgment 
of  others  regarding  our  moral  actions;  as  shame  and  remorse  where 
we  must  pronounce  judgment  against  ourselves;  as  thankfulness  or 
gratitude  where  we  seek  to  recompense  the  good  deeds  received  from 
others,  etc. 


I  76.  RELIGIOUS  FEELINGS. 

Closely  related  to  the  moral,  are  the  religious  feelings. 
By  religious  feelings  we  mean  such  as  have  their  seat  in 
man's  ideas  of  a  supersensible  world,  whose  center  is  God. 

Man  very  soon  discovers  (particularly  in  destructive 
catastrophes,  in  the  tumult  of  the  elements,  upon  the  stormy 
sea,  in  danger,  etc.)  his  own  impotence  and  dependence  upon 
higher  powers.  He  sees  that  the  magnitude  and  splendor  of 
creation,  the  significant  adjustments  of  nature,  the  undeni- 
able foresight  in  the  chain  of  events,  presuppose  a  wise  ruler; 
and  finally  that  the  undeniable  validity  of  moral  demands 


RELIGIOUS  FEELINGS.  199 

points  to  a  highest  moral  (holy)  originator  of  the  moral  law. 
Man  is  led  through  these  observations  to  a  knowledge  of  a 
highest  being. 

The  concepts  of  God  and  a  future  world  become  the 
source  of  manifold  feelings.  Reverence,  gratitude,  love  to 
God,  are  religious  feelings,  which  find  their  expression  in 
divine  veneration  and  in  religious  exercises,  especially  in 
prayer,  which  is  conversation  with  God. 

These  feelings  are  very  important,  for  they  bring  won- 
derful consolation  to  man  in  the  vicissitudes  of  life,  and  lift 
his  spirit  above  this  world  of  sense.  But  they  attain  their 
greatest  importance  in  that  they  are  the  most  important 
support  of  morals,  since  they  make  the  moral  law,  which 
would  otherwise  be  a  mere  demand  of  the  reason,  appear  as 
an  expression  of  the  divine  will,  and  requite  its  obedience  or 
disobedience  with  rewards  and  punishments. 

Remark  1. — All  the  events  and  relations  of  the  earthly  life  appear 
in  a  more  beautiful  light  when  they  are  viewed  from  the  standpoint 
of  religion.  The  existence  of  man  does  not  end  with  the  physical 
death,  but  really  only  begins  then;  the  virtue  here  rejected  and 
trodden  into  the  mire  will  triumph  in  the  hereafter;  the  evil  here 
holding  its  head  aloft  in  the  chariot  of  victory  will  there  find  its 
destroyer;  the  hypocrite  will  be  exposed;  the  righteous  man  will  be 
lifted  up;  there  will  reign  peace,  harmony,  blessedness.  It  is  in  these 
reflections  that  the  marvelous  consolations  of  religion  consist. 

Remark  2. — The  careful  contemplation  of  nature  greatly  furthers 
the  belief  in  God  and  the  religious  feelings.  The  eternal  order  in 
the  economy  of  nature;  the  profound  plan,  scarcely  attainable  by 
human  reason,  which  extends  throughout  all  the  processes  of  nature; 
the  marvelous  intertwining  of  individual  phenomena  in  order  to  reach 
a  highest  end — all  this  gives  more  than  a  guaranty  for  the  existence 
of  a  supreme  ruler  of  the  universe.  Therefore  the  greatest  natural- 
ists have  been  the  most  pious  men.  It  is  said  of  Newton,  the  man 
who  has  looked  deepest  into  the  order  of  the  universe,  that  he  never 
could  hear  the  name  of  God  spoken  without  uncovering  his  head. 


200  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

\  77.  PERSONAL,  OR  EGOISTIC  FEELING. 

The  object  of  personal  feeling  is  our  own  ego.  In  the 
course  of  our  mental  life  it  experiences  furtherance  and 
depression,  upon  which  the  exaltation  or  depression  of  the 
egoistic  feeling  rests.  I  am  affirmed,  e.  g.,  in  acknowledg- 
ment, praise,  honor, — this  leads  to  exaltation;  everything 
whereby  our  ego  is  negated,  as,  e.  g. ,  blame,  contempt,  ridi- 
cule, unsuccessful  results,  violence,  and  limitation  of  every 
kind,  leads  to  a  depression  of  our  egoistic  feeling. 

The  ego  is  man's  strongest  concept  mass,  for  it  is  rein- 
forced by  the  total  complex  of  concepts.  But  in  its  out- 
wardly directed  activity  it  soon  comes  upon  difficulties  and 
boundaries  beyond  which  it  can  not  go.  These  obstructions 
are  either  the  blind  powers  of  nature  or  the  conscious  activ- 
ity of  other  men. 

In  so  far  as  the  ego  is  able  to  surmount  these  difficulties, 
to  overcome  these  limitations,  it  feels  itself  greater,  more 
powerful,  less  limited.  The  furtherance  of  the  ego  concept 
through  the  surmounting  of  outward  hindrances  gives  rise 
to  the  egoistic  feeling.  The  more  complete  this  victory  is, 
the  more  intense  will  the  feeling  be. 

Even  the  child  shows  pleasure  in  such  activities  as  enable 
him  to  realize  the  superiority  of  his  own  personality  over  the 
external  world,  to  make  his  own  ego  valid  against  external 
forces,  therefore  the  child's  joy  in  the  destruction  of  outer 
objects,  therefore  the  pleasure  in  playing  with  lifeless  things, 
in  altering  them  at  pleasure,  and  in  making  his  playfellows 
subject  to  himself ;  i.  e.,  dependent  upon  his  own  personality. 

But  the  adult  also  feels  the  need  of  asserting  his  own 
ego  in  word  and  deed;  the  rude  impulse  to  destroy,  which  is 
met  with  in  children  and  savages,  is  with  him  transformed 
into  the  nobler  impulses  of  construction  and  art,  whereby, 
instead  of  destroying,  he  creates  new  forms;  the  crude  desire 


PERSONAL  FEELINGS,  201 

to  rule  is  changed  into  obedience  to  law,  which  makes  true 
freedom  first  possible.  The  egoistic  feeling  of  man,  which  at 
first  threatened  to  degenerate  all  things  external  in  the  over- 
valuation of  self,  is  now  brought  back  to  its  proper  limits. 

This  is  particularly  the  case  when  the  individual  feeling 
of  self  is  widened  and  ennobled  by  being  extended  to  social 
feeling.  Man  finds  himself  in  society,  in  which  he  stands  in 
the  relation  of  a  fraction  to  the  whole.  He  is  not  himself  the 
middle- point  of  society;  this  he  must  rather  yield  to  the  polit- 
ical, religious,  and  social  leaders,  as  well  as  to  the  highest 
and  best;  but  in  thought  he  approaches  as  closely  as  possible 
to  this  middle  point,  and  feels  himself  infinitely  exalted,  in 
that  he  participates  in  the  power  and  greatness  of  the  social 
whole,  thus  striking  off  the  limitation,  the  imperfection,  and 
the  transientness  of  the  individual.  (See  Author's  Psychol- 
ogy of  Society,  §  24.) 

The  social  feeling  of  self  Js  the  feeling  of  honor,  which 
rests  upon  the  acknowledgment  of  our  own  worth  by  society, 
and  is  therefore  furthered  by  everything  which  can  exalt  the 
idea  of  our  own  personality  in  the  eyes  of  society.  Man 
instinctively  undertakes  everything  in  order  to  hold  the  idea 
of  his  own  personality  high  in  the  social  consciousness;  i.  e., 
to  promote  his  honor,  and  when  it  is  attacked,  to  rescue  it.  *) 
The  sudden  and  irresistible  check  of  the  self-consciousness  is 
manifested  in  the  feeling  of  shame. 

Remark  1. — There  is  also  a  false  feeling  of  self,  which  has  its 
seat,  not  in  actual  experience  regarding  the  validity  of  the  ego,  but 
in  imaginary  views  regarding  its  assumed  value.  In  order  to  pro- 
tect man  from  this  false  feeling  of  self,  which  can  only  be  harmful 
in  life,  it  is  important  that  he  be  early  accustomed  to  obedience.  This 
is  nothing  more  than  the  subordination  of  the  ego  under  a  higher 
power.  It  is  also  the  most  important  exercise  for  the  youthful  being 
in  a  moral  regard.  The  feeling  of  self  when  it  does  not  degenerate 

1)  The  thought  of  not  being  able  to  live  without  honor  lies  at 
the  basis  of  the  duel,  in  its  higher  apprehension. 


203  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

to  selfishness  is  a  noble  moral  feeling,  for  it  protects  man  from  every 
humiliation. 

Remark  2. — Upon  this  suppression  of  the  egoistic  feeling  rests 
one  of  the  most  painful  of  feelings,  namely,  the  fear  of  death.  Ego- 
istic feeling  is  never  so  much  opposed  as  by  the  thought  that 
there  may  be  a  condition  in  which  the  ego  will  no  more  exist.  This 
weight  upon  the  ego-concept  is  the  source  of  the  fear  of  death, 
which  can  only  be  banished  by  the  argument  that  the  ego  need  not 
fear  a  state  in  which  it  no  longer  exists.  It  is  not  the  idea  of  some 
expected  evil,  but  the  thought  of  nothingness  that  causes  the  anxiety 
in  the  fear  of  death.  Therefore  the  ego  demands  unlimited  contin- 
uance, and  finds  its  comfort  in  the  belief  in  immortality. 


2  78.  SYMPATHY. 

While  the  egoistic  feeling  threatens  to  insulate  man, 
that  of  sympathy  attracts  him  to  other  beings  of  his  own 
kind.  The  physiognomy  is  gapable  of  expressing  human 
feelings  in  mien  and  gesture.  Pleasure  and  pain  are  revealed 
in  the  radiant  or  the  clouded  eye,  in  the  erect  or  drooping 
position  of  the  body,  in  the  expression  of  the  face,  and  in  the 
speech.  One  can  therefore  judge  from  the  exterior  of  man 
what  feelings  move  him  from  within. 

If  in  this  manner  we  perceive  the  feelings  of  another,  we 
can  not  long  remain  entirely  indifferent  to  them;  we  put  our- 
selves in  the  place  of  the  other  ego,  and  since  we  bring  to 
consciousness  the  concepts  upon  which  his  feelings  rest,  we 
make  his  feelings  our  own;  i.  e.,  we  sympathize,  or  feel  with 
him.  Sympathy  is  accordingly  that  feeling  which  arises 
through  the  perception  of  feeling  in  another,  and  which  is 
similar  in  tone  to  the  feeling  observed.  According  as  the 
feeling  was  pleasure  or  pain,  our  sympathy  is  joy  in  his 
fortune,  or  commiseration  for  his  misfortune. 

The  going  out  of  the  ego  in  sympathetic  feeling  is  most 
active  where  the  similarity  of  concepts  brings  about  a  com- 


SYMPATHY.  203 

mon  consciousness,  a  "we,"  because  under  such  circum- 
stances one  can  most  easily  think  himself  into  the  state  of 
the  foreign  ego.  We  sympathize,  therefore,  most  easily  with 
such  persons  as  are  most  like  ourselves  in  mental  condition; 
as,  with  relatives,  associates  of  the  same  age,  countrymen,  etc. 

But  with  sympathy  there  is  involuntarily  mixed  the 
reflection  upon  our  own  condition,  which  obtrudes  itself 
more  or  less,  thus  causing  sympathy  to  become  a  mixed  feel- 
ing, since  with  pity  is  associated  the  joy  at  our  own  more 
fortunate  state,  and  with  the  joy  in  another's  happiness,  the 
sadness  of  our  less  happy  condition.  Should  these  accom- 
panying feelings  come  into  the  foreground,  they  may  even 
quench  the  sympathy  and  become  transformed  into  an  oppos- 
ing feeling,  or  antipathy.  This  occurs  when,  upon  perceiv- 
ing feeling  in  another,  we  are  thrown  into  a  feeling  the 
opposite  of  that  perceived;  as  when,  for  instance,  another's 
joy  saddens  us,  or  his  pain  pleases  us.  In  the  first  case 
envy,  the  opposite  of  pleasure  in  another's  good  fortune, 
arises;  in  the  second,  pleasure  in  another's  misfortune,  or 
the  opposite  of  pity. 

Sympathy  is  important  because  it  builds  the  bridge  to 
benevolence  and  love,  which  are  the  center  of  gravity  for  the 
moral  ideas.  Antipathy,  though  not  always  to  be  condemned 
(who  does  not  rejoice  when  a  hypocrite  stands  revealed  in 
his  contemptibleness?),  is  on  the  whole  a  dangerous  state  for 
morality,  since  it  may  easily  lead  to  ill-will  and  hate. 

We  must  distinguish  between  these  feelings  and  those  of 
involuntary  sympathy  and  antipathy;  i.  e.,  the  unconscious 
attraction  or  repulsion  in  regard  to  living  or  lifeless  things. 
We  feel  sympathy  or  antipathy  regarding  men  whom  we  see 
for  the  first  time,  or  parrots  and  apes,  or  landscapes  and 
cities,  without  being  able  to  explain  precisely  why.  (Antip- 
athy of  women  for  spiders  and  preference  for  cats.)  These 
feelings  rest  upon  obscure  concepts  which  are  associated  with 


204  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

the  idea  of  the  respective  objects,  and  which  cause  in  us  a 
feeling  of  pleasure  or  pain.1' 

Remark  1. — Pity  is  more  met  with  in  life  than  sympathy  of  a 
joyous  nature.  We  sympathize  rather  with  the  man  whose  property 
is  destroyed  by  fire,  and  whom  we  see  before  us  in  his  desperate  cir- 
cumstances, than  with  him  who  has  won  the  grand  prize  in  a  lottery, 
and  who  now  rejoices  at  his  good  luck.  Sympathy  with  the  good  for- 
tune of  others  is  a  sign  of  a  noble  nature,  which  is  above  vulgar  envy 
and  selfish  desires,  just  as  pleasure  in  the  misfortune  of  others  is  a 
sign  of  a  deeply  corrupted  heart.  For  this  reason  love  of  destruction 
must  not  be  suffered  in  the  heart  of  the  child,  must  not  be  permitted 
to  grow  with  his  growth.  Children  who  manifest  a  pleasure  in  tear- 
ing off  the  wings  and  legs  of  bugs  and  butterflies,  knowing  that  they 
are  causing  pain,  show  already  an  evil  heart.  What  in  a  small  way 
they  do  with  helpless  animals,  they  will  in  a  greater  do  with  men 
when  they  have  strength  and  opportunity.  Envy  is  not  so  bad  as  the 
love  of  injury  to  others;  for  it  finds  some  excuse  in  the  reflection  upon 
the  personal,  perhaps  less  happy  state,  and  may  prove  a  spur  to  im- 
provement through  increased  activity.  Therefore  those  are  most 
envied  by  us  who  in  regard  to  external  circumstances  are  most  our 
equals,  because  this  equality  excites  comparison  and  contrast.  A  beg- 
gar envies  another  beggar  who  has  been  more  lucky  in  begging,  rather 
than  a  prince.  The  latter  appears  to  him  as  a  being  of  a  higher  order. 

Remark  2. — Sympathy  leads  very  easily  to  love.  By  this  general 
term  we  mean  that  feeling  which  devotes  itself  to  another  personality 
and  finds  its  own  true  expression  in  the  greatest  possible  union  with 
the  other  personality.  Love  seeks  to  approach  the  beloved  object  as 
nearly  as  possible,  to  identify  itself  with  it,  and  to  fill  up  the  gulf 
which  lies  between  me  and  thee.  It  fuses  the  individuals  into  a  unity 
of  existence,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  annihilates  the  distance  which 
separates  them.  It  may  have  various  motives,  in  accordance  with 
which  it  assumes  specific  forms  (friendship,  love  of  children,  love 
between  the  sexes),  and  has  a  varying  moral  worth.  It  reaches  its 
highest  moral  worth  when  it  renounces  every  selfish  motive  and 
devotes  itself  to  mankind  as  universal  love  of  man  (brotherly  love). 

1)  Perhaps  that  man  who  excites  our  sympathy  has  a  feature  in 
his  face  which  reminds  us  dimly  of  some  beloved  person;  perhaps 
that  valley  which  touches  a  sympathetic  chord  has  a  similarity  to 
the  fields  of  our  home  neighborhood. 


RECIPROCAL  ACTION  OF  FEELING.  205 

This  is  the  genuine  love  which  Christianity  places  at  the  front  of 
morals,  which  is  active  wherever  opportunity  offers,  and  which 
excludes  nobody,  not  even  an  enemy.  Christ,  who  mingled  with  all 
men,  with  love  to  the  good  and  the  bad,  who  died  for  all  mankind 
upon  the  cross,  praying  for  his  enemies,  is  the  sublimest  archetype  of 
Christian  love. 


£  79.  RECIPROCAL  ACTION  OF  FEELINGS. 

Just  as  the  unity  of  consciousness  brings  about  a  fusion 
of  simultaneous  concepts,  so  the  unity  of  feeling  brings  about 
the  conjunction  of  all  feelings  occurring  at  the  same  moment 
of  life.  The  resultant  of  these  simultaneous  feelings  mani- 
fests itself  in  the  mind's  general  state  of  feeling. 

This  general  state  of  feeling  is  synthesized  from  num- 
berless elementary  feelings,  which  in  the  main  rest  upon 
obscure  concepts,  which  taken  individually  are  too  weak  to 
become  noticeable.  The  tone  of  these  elementary  feelings 
passes  over  into  the  tone  of  the  general  state  of  feeling,  which 
thus  becomes  a  disposition  to  feelings  of  pleasure  or  pain. 

The  feeling  of  life  and  the  products  of  the  vital  sense 
form  the  dark  background  of  our  momentary  state  of  feeling. 
Herewith  are  associated  the  minor  movements  of  feeling, 
which,  in  accordance  with  the  events  of  the  day,  affect  us, 
now  as  depressing,  now  as  enlivening,  and  become  noticeable 
only  in  their  totality  as  good  or  bad  humor,  as  joyousness  or 
as  sadness.1) 


1)  An  analysis  of  these  obscure  and  in  themselves  very  insignifi- 
cant elementary  feelings  by  introspection  is  hardly  possible,  and  we 
are  often  utterly  unable  to  ascribe  a  cause  to  our  joyous  or  depressed 
state  of  feeling.  The  most  insignificant  incidents  of  the  day  are  not 
without  their  influence  upon  it.  On  a  foggy  morning  an  Englishman, 
on  account  of  depression  of  spirits,  thought  to  commit  suicide.  Ho 
had  already  placed  the  pistol  to  his  head,  when  the  clouds  parted  and 
the  sun  shone.  His  depression  was  scattered  with  the  breaking  of 
the  clouds,  and  the  thought  of  suicide  was  postponed. 


206  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

From  this  obscure  complex  of  feelings,  characterized 
only  by  tone,  only  those  feelings  arise  as  special  states  which 
have  their  seat  in  clear  concepts  or  in  detached  groups  of 
concepts.  But  even  these  feelings  are  much  influenced  by 
the  tone  of  the  ruling  state  of  mind. 

On  account  of  the  coming  together  of  these  species  of 
special  feelings  there  not  unfrequently  arise  augmentations 
and  contrasts  of  feeling,  according  as  these  harmonize  in 
tone  or  not.  The  pleasure  arising  from  a  well-spread  table 
may  be  much  augmented  by  the  satisfaction  of  happily  com- 
pleted deeds,  successfully  passed  examinations,  by  a  gay 
holiday  mood,  or  by  the  relation  to  some  purpose  satisfactory 
to  us  (festivities),  or  by  the  presence  of  similarly  minded 
companions  (banquets,  etc.  *> ) ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  pleas- 
ure may  be  greatly  dampened  by  anxiety  regarding  con- 
templated labor  or  undertakings,  or  by  the  presence  of 
persons  who  are  disagreeable  to  us.  A  good  conscience, 
because  in  itself  the  source  of  the  purest  pleasure,  augments 
every  joy,  whereas  the  consciousness  of  guilt  spoils  every 
pleasure. 

Here,  also,  belong  the  "mixed  feelings."  Nothing  is 
commoner  than  that  a  certain  change  in  the  state  of  our  feel- 
ings should  augment  on  the  one  side  the  arrest,  on  the  other 
the  furthering  of  concepts,  thus  at  the  same  time  producing 
feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain.  Every  surprise  brings  about 
a  mixed  feeling.  A  strong  and  lasting  mixed  feeling  is  called 
melancholy. 

So  far  as  they  are  opposite  in  content,  feelings  may 
arrest  each  other,  in  that  the  concepts  in  which  they  have 
their  seat  are  arrested.  As  there  is  a  concentration  of  con- 


1)  The  common  attempt  to  increase  this  pleasure  by  table  music 
seems  less  happy;  unless  indeed  an  appropriate  kind  of  music  should 
be  invented.  The  pleasure  in  tones  and  the  satisfaction  of  the  palate 
belong  to  entirely  different  departments. 


VIOLENT  FEELINGS,  OR  PASSIONS.  207 

sciousness,  so  there  is  a  concentration  of  feeling  (heart),  in 
accordance  with  which  the  intensity,  and,  indeed,  the  dura- 
tion of  feelings  decreases  with  their  number,  their  manifold- 
ness,  and  their  opposition  in  kind.  Thus,  cosmopolitanism 
stands  opposed  to  patriotism.  He  who  is  enthusiastic  for 
many  and  different  things  is  superficial  and  transient  in  his 
enthusiasms. 

Remark  1. — The  general  state  of  feeling  is  not  constant;  it  is 
rather  changeable  according  as  the  numberless  psychical  components 
upon  which  it  depends  change.  Since  its  average  tone  must  be  one 
either  of  pleasure  or  pain,  this  must  be  determined  by  the  promi- 
nent elements  of  feeling  found  in  it.  If,  for  instance,  depression  of 
feeling  has  occurred,  it  extends  over  the  whole  state  of  ^ensibility;  even 
the  fly  upon  the  wall  offends  him  who  is  already  vexed — the  whole 
concept  life  is  drawn  into  the  unhappy  state.  Therefore,  the  first 
impressions  which  one  receives  in  the  morning  or  upon  entrance  into 
strange  society  are  often  the  decisive  ones,  and  the  first  tone  sounds 
through  the  whole  day  or  the  whole  conversation.  Yet  the  opposite 
often  takes  place;  the  one  state  of  feeling  gives  way  to  the  opposite 
If  this  becomes  habitual  and  involuntary,  it  is  characterized  as  humor. 
This  is  often  a  consequence  of  somatic  disturbance  (biliousness,  hypo- 
chondria, hysteria). 

Remark  2. — The  predominance  of  the  obscure  state  of  feeling 
over  clear  consciousness  is  called  humor.  The  frame  of  mind  may  be 
joyous  or  sad,  exalted  or  depressed.  An  exalted  state  of  mind  pre- 
supposes a  certain  physical  well  being,  and  the  presence  of  significant 
masses  of  concepts  in  the  mind.  This  is  the  state  in  which  all  great 
deeds  are  executed,  all  art  work  created  and  enjoyed. 


I  80.  VIOLENT  FEELINGS,  OR  PASSIONS. 

Passion  in  the  narrower  sense,  or  violent  feeling,  is  the 
exact  opposite  of  peace  of  mind.1) 


1)  With  the  exception  of  profound  sleep,  there  never  is  absolute 
quietness  of  feeling.  That  which  we  call  such  is  only  a  middle  state 
in  the  tension  of  our  concepts,  in  which  they  approach  an  equipoise 
as  nearly  as  possible  through  their  reciprocal  fusions  and  arrests. 


208  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

The  momentary  equipoise  of  the  concepts  is  constantly 
disturbed  by  the  feelings,  in  the  sense  of  over  or  under  ten- 
sion of  furthering  or  arrest,  even  though  the  peace  of  mind 
be  not  thereby  destroyed;  for,  the  tension  of  concepts,  no 
matter  how  far  carried,  may  be  released  in  purely  psycho- 
logical ways.  In  truth,  experience  shows  that  the  most  in- 
tense feelings,  which  have  their  root  in  the  depths  of  the  soul 
and  are  interwoven  with  the  most  diverse  concepts — love  for 
one's  native  land,  attachment  to  those  near  and  dear,  relig- 
ious worship,  and  poetic  inspiration — are  in  fact  far  removed 
from  really  violent  feelings,  or  passions. 

These  violent  disturbances  arise  only  when  concepts  in 
a  state  of  equipoise  receive  such  an  impulse  to  rise  or  sink 
in  intensity,  through  the  sudden  and  unexpected  entrance  of 
a  concept,  usually  a  sense-perception,  that  the  former  equi- 
poise suffers  a  sudden  and  violent  disturbance,  and  more 
concepts  are  thrust  into  or  out  of  consciousness  than  would 
occur  in  a  quiet  development,  and  more  than  answer  to  a 
balanced  state  of  mind.  The  suddenness  and  tumultuousness 
of  this  action  does  not  give  the  ego  concept  time  enough  to 
appear  and  to  make  its  apperceiving  influence  valid;  i.  e., 
to  restore  the  equilibrium.  In  passion,  for  example,  anger, 
man  is  not  himself,  but  beside  himself — he  is  impelled  to 
words  and  deeds  in  which  he  would  not  recognize  himself 
when  his  balance  of  mind  is  restored  (man  does  not  know 
himself  in  anger). 

The  sudden  mounting  or  sinking  of  concepts  bears  with 
it  a  corresponding  modification  in  physiological  resonance; 
that  is,  in  accompanying  conditions  of  the  nervous  system. 
This  appears  as  excitation  or  depression  of  nerve  activity,  at 
first  in  the  central  portions  of  the  cerebro-spinal  system, 
then  in  the  nerve  fibers  which  lead  from  it,  and  is  reflected 
finally  in  the  nerves  and  systems  of  the  vegetative  spheres; 
therefore  the  remarkable  bodily  phenomena  which  accom- 


VIOLENT  FEELINGS,  OR  PASSIONS.  209 

pany  the  passions,  and  which  manifest  themselves  in  the 
sudden  tension  or  relaxation  of  the  muscles  (doubling  the 
fists,  cramp,  trembling,  temporary  paralysis),  in  the  altered 
circulation  of  blood  (blushing,  paling,  heart  paralysis),  secre- 
tion or  discharge»(of  gall,  saliva,  tears),  and  respiration  (the 
snorting  expiration  of  breath  by  the  angry,  and  the  arrest- 
ing of  the  breath  with  the  terrified). 

This  sudden  disturbance  of  the  nervous  system  exercises 
a  very  significant  reflex  action  upon  the  condition  of  the 
mind  itself.  The  intensified  or  depressed  state  of  excitation 
in  the  physical  masses  of  the  nervous  system,  in  accordance 
with  the  faculty  of  continuance,  may  prevent  an  immediate 
return  to  a  normal  middle  activity,  and  thus  prevent  the 
return  of  the  highly-strung  concepts  to  their  condition  of 
equipoise.  Passion  must  wear  itself  out;  only  when  the  exci- 
tation in  the  nervous  conditions  has  gradually  calmed  can 
the  mind  return  to  its  normal  state  of  equipoise.  Thus,  in 
the  condition  of  violent  feeling,  the  body,  temporarily  indeed, 
brings  the  mind  under  its  dominion  and  robs  it  of  its  free 

^3  • 

self-determination.  On  this  account  the  passions  are  con- 
nected with  the  temperaments,  of  which  the  choleric  does 
most  to  produce  violent  states  of  feeling,  and  the  phlegmatic 
least.  Education,  culture,  helps  to  subdue  passion,  since 
it  brings  about  an  even,  inner  fusion  of  our  concepts. 

In  accordance  with  the  foregoing,  one  may  define  passion 
in  the  narrow  sense  as  a  sudden  and  violent  disturbance  of 
the  equipoise  of  concepts,  which,  in  consequence  of  an  unex- 
pected invasion,  is  brought  about  by  the  assistance  of  physi- 
ological causes,  and  associated  with  violent  excitations  of 
mind. 

Remark  1. — Every  feeling  may  increase  until  it  has  this  violent 
nature  as  soon  as,  on  account  of  increased  physiological  resonance 
or  of  the  stronger  physiological  pressure,  reflection  is  lost.  Even  the 
noblest  feelings  of  man  are  capable  of  this  degradation;  as,  for 


210  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

example,  the  feelings  of  right  and  morality.  The  feeling  of  requital 
when  outraged  by  tardy  or  insufficient  justice  easily  increases  among 
the  people  to  the  violent  stage,  and  breaks  out  in  dreadful  deeds  of 
lynch-law,  just  as  the  noble  feeling  of  patriotism  is  often  intensified 
into  revolutionary  insanity. 

• 

Remark  2. — The  physiological  disturbance  of  the  nervous  system 
is  at  first  an  effect  of  the  passion,  but  may  itself  also  become  a  strength- 
ening cause  of  it.  "Thus,  passion"  first  agitates  the  body;  but  the 
agitation  is  continued  in  the  body,  and  in  turn  does  not  at  once  allow 
the  mind  to  regain  its  natural  condition  and  activity."  In  this  way 
the  lower  kinds  of  passion  may  be  excited  by  the  body;  he  who  frowns 
or  doubles  his  fist  after  the  manner  of  an  angry  man,  actually  becomes 
angry,  and,  "The  hand  which  smooths  the  frowning  brow  appeases 
also  the  anger  expressed  by  it."  (Lotze.)  In  this  way  the  dampening 
of  passion  in  a  purely  physiological  manner  is  explained.  A  glass  of 
water  for  the  agitated,  a  glass  of  wine  for  the  despondent,  may  serve 
a  good  purpose.  Even  to  take  a  seat  may  have  an  effect,  and  Kant 
recommends  as  a  counterargument,  the  offering  of  a  chair  to  one  who 
enters  our  room  in  order  to  use  hard  words  against  us.  If  the  angry 
person  sits,  the  relaxation  of  the  muscles  begins  the  relaxation  of  the 
tension  of  the  mind, 

Remark  3. — Even  the  slightest  external  occasions  may  break  up 
the  equipoise  of  the  mind  when  it  does  not  rest  upon  reliable  apper- 
ceiving  concepts,  or  even  when  an  unexpected  incident  catches  us  off 
our  guard.  There  are  men  who  bear  with  fortitude  the  hardest  blows 
of  fate,  but  who  are  beside  themselves  if  in  an  unlucky  moment  a 
button  comes  off  or  a  fly  lights  on  the  nose. 


2  81.  CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  PASSIONS. 

The  subdivision  of  the  passions  corresponds  to  that  of 
the  feelings.  The  deviation  of  the  concepts  from  a  state  of 
equipoise  may  be  in  consequence  of  an  intensifying  or  of  a 
depression  of  concepts.  In  the  first  case,  we  find  a  power- 
ful releasing  and  acceleration  of  the  nunrement  of  concepts, 
accompanied  by  an  overfilling  of  the  consciousness  and  a 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  211 

heightened  feeling  of  power — in  the  latter  case,  by  a  power- 
ful checking  or  arrest  of  the  flow  of  representation,  together 
with  a  prevailing  emptiness  of  consciousness  and  a  feeling 
of  helplessness.  In  the  first  case,  the  violent  agitation  of 
the  mind  is  like  mountainous  billows;  in  the  latter,  like  the 
valleys  between  them. 

The  reflex  action  in  the  two  cases  will  also  be  an  opposite 
one.  In  the  first,  an  augmentation;  in  the  second,  a  depres- 
sion of  the  nerve  activity  will  occur.  Agitations  of  the  first 
sort  are  called  active;  of  the  second,  passive. 

Anger  is  the  representative  of  the  active  passions,  fear 
of  the  passive.  Anger,  which  arises  mainly  in  consequence 
of  offended  egoistic  feeling  in  consequence  of  injury  done, 
brings  a  flood  of  concepts  over  the  threshold  of  consciousness, 
which  in  their  lawless  thronging  rob  the  man  of  reflection, 
some  concepts  being  rapidly  raised  to  the  highest  degree  of 
intensity,  so  that  the  volitions  and  actions  which  follow  from 
them  assume  the  character  of  an  irresistible  tide  of  feeling. 
With  fear,  on  the  contrary,  there  is  a  sudden  ebbing  of  con- 
cepts, in  that  a  single  concept  mass  excessively  intensified 
(that  of  the  event  feared)  causes  a  general  sinking  of  concepts, 
so  that  the  resulting  vacancy  of  mind  expresses  itself  exter- 
nally in  silence,  trembling,  indecision,  and  inactivity. 

These  mental  agitations  have,  further,  their  outbreak, 
their  culmination,  and  their  decline  and  termination.  The 
last  is  effected  in  that  the  displaced  ego  concept  gradually 
comes  again  to  validity,  apperceiving  the  concepts  aroused 
on  account  of  the  agitated  state.  The  given  classification 
relates  to  the  state  of  the  mind  when  the  agitation  is  at  its 
culmination. 


212 


EMPIRICAL  PS YCHOLOO  Y. 


In  conclusion,  we  may 
offered  by  Prof.  Nahlowsky: 

A.   Active,  or  Plus  Side. 
Pleasant  surprise. 
Sudden  enlivening. 
Gayety. 
Abandon. 
Excessive  joy. 
Entrancement. 
Courage. 
Anger. 

Vexation,  resentment,  en- 
mity. 

Admiration. 
Inspiration. 
Ecstasy. 


find  place  for  the  classification 

B.  Passive,  or  Minus  Side. 

Overpowering  astonishment. 

Predicament,    confusion,   sud- 
den loss  of  good  humor. 

Painful  surprise. 

Attacks  of  care  and  sadness. 

Anxiety. 

Depression. 

Lack  of  courage. 

Shame. 

Fear. 

Terror. 

Abhorrence. 

Amazement,  horror. 

Remorse. 

Despair. 


PART  III. 
STRIVING,  OR  IMPULSE  TO  ACTION. 


CHAPTER  I. 
§  82.  DESIRE. 

Desire  is  in  general  a  state  of  mind  which  strives  to 
bring  about  some  other  state  not  now  present.  It  is  always 
directed  toward  some  particular  object;  but  only  the  idea  of 
the  object,  not  the  object  itself,  can  penetrate  to  conscious- 
ness; for  instance,  not  the  gold,  but  the  idea  of  its  undis- 
turbed possession;  not  the  water,  but  the  sensation  of  a  sat- 
isfied thirst. 

But  the  idea  of  the  desired  object  was  already  in  con- 
sciousness when  desired.  He  who  does  not  know  the  quench- 
ing quality  of  water  or  who  cannot  imagine  the  pleasure  of 
its  possession  would  never  desire  it.  Before  possession  the 
concept  is  arrested;  afterwards  it  is  freed  from  arrest. 

Impulse  strives,  therefore,  to  shake  off  the  undesirable 
state  of  arrest  from  the  idea  of  the  desired  object,  and  to 
exchange  this  state  for  that  of  freedom  from  arrest  in  order 
to  be  complete  master  of  its  object  so  far  as  can  be  through 
the  medium  of  concepts.  This  is  brought  about  by  a  struggle 
against  the  opposing,  arresting  concepts,  and  by  elevating 
the  concept  of  the  desired  object  higher  and  higher  above 
the  threshold  of  consciousness.  The  necessary  power  to  do 


214  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

this  is  lent  by  the  subordinate  helping  concepts  which  impel 
to  desire,  and  which  are,  therefore,  motives  of  desire. 

Concepts  which  are  under  the  influence  of  impulse  we 
call  desires. ]) 

In  desire,  as  in  feeling,  we  distinguish:  1)  the  concept  of 
the  desired  object  =  A,  2)  the  sum  of  the  opposing  concepts 
=  M,  and  3)  the  sum  of  the  furthering  or  assisting  concepts 
=  N.  But  desire  differs  from  feeling,  in  that  it  is  not,  like 
the  latter,  a  momentary  stage  of  mental  activity,  but  is  a 
transition  through  several  such  stages;  i.  e.,  it  signifies  a 
movement.  The  several  cross  sections  of  this  movement 
are  mixed  feelings,  because  now  the  intensifying  of  the  chief 
concept,  A,  now  the  vain  struggle  against  its  opposites,  M, 
comes  to  consciousness.  The  energy  of  desire  will  depend 
upon  the  force  developed  by  the  furthering  concepts,  N,  and 
can  be  measured  by  the  resistance  of  the  opposing  concepts, 
M.  If  these  assisting  concepts  are  sense-perceptions,  whose 
power  is  continuously  renewed  by  prolonged  sense  impres- 
sion,— if  they  are  sensations  which  have  their  root  in  deter- 
minate physiological  relations, — if  they  are  series  which  cross 
in  the  concept,  A,  and,  in  the  effort  to  develop  or  run  off, 
bring  it  more  definitely  to  consciousness,  then  the  desire  may 
assume  an  extraordinary  degree  of  intensity  and  manifest 
itself  as  demand  or  longing.  Negative  desire,  as  the  sinking 
of  a  concept  before  its  opponents,  is  abhorrence  or  detestation. 

\  83.  SATISFACTION  OF  DESIRES. 

A  desire  is  satisfied  when  the  chief  concept,  A,  has  reached 
the  highest  degree  of  clearness  of  which  it  is  capable. 

1)  Strictly  speaking,  every  concept  strives  for  freedom  from 
arrest,  as  its  natural  condition.  But  the  effect  of  this  striving  is 
counteracted  by  the  action  of  opposing  concepts;  it  is  just  as  if  the 
impulse  did  not  exist.  Impulse  is  first  called  desire  when  its  effect  is 
manifested  by  the  elevation  of  a  concept  to  ever  higher  degrees  of 
clearness,  through  the  support  of  numerous  attendant  concepts,  until 
it  momentarily  occupies  our  whole  consciousness. 


SATISFACTION  OF  DESIRES.  215 

This  moment  is  subjectively  recognized  as  an  intense 
feeling  of  pleasure,  for  the  opposing  concepts,  which  have 
been  so  long  struggled  against  in  vain,  appear  permanently 
overcome. 

Such  a  satisfaction  can  in  general  only  be  obtained  when 
the  reproduced  concept,  i.  e.,  the  concept  held  by  imagina- 
tion before  the  mind,  becomes  a  sense-perception;  for  so  long 
as  it  remains  mere  concept  in  the  narrow  sense  (^  13),  it  must, 
in  the  contest  with  its  opposing  concepts,  suffer  participation 
in  their  arrest.  Only  when  it  becomes  a  sense-perception  can 
it  (according  to  3  44)  totally  free  itself  from  arrest. 

Experience  completely  establishes  this  fact. 

Homesickness,  for  example,  can  be  wholly  cured  only  by 
actually  going  home  and  allowing  the  beloved  spot  to  affect 
the  senses1). 

It  is  otherwise  with  the  intellectual  desires;  their  aim  is 
not  an  object  of  sense,  but  a  certain  rearrangement  of  con- 
cepts, as  in  the  solution  of  a  problem.  Here  the  satisfac- 
tion consists  in  concentrating  the  whole  power  of  attention 
upon  one  group  of  concepts,  so  that  consciousness  is  confined 
within  one  limited  field  of  thought,  thus  greatly  increasing 
the  clearness  of  the  same.  Thus,  by  means  of  intellectual 
desire,  the  attention  is  directed  now  upon  this,  now  upon 
that  point  of  consciousness,  and  the  course  of  thought  is  cor- 
respondingly governed. 

1)  There  is  indeed  a  kind  of  artificial  satisfaction  for  sensuous 
desire,  independent  of  the  senses,  since  one  by  voluntarily  directing 
the  inner  attention  may  seek  to  raise  the  concept  of  the  desired  object 
to  the  highest  degree  of  clearness,  and  to  drive  all  opposing  concepts 
from  consciousness.  Longing,  or  ardent  desire,  seeks  this  mode  of 
satisfaction  by  forcibly  disengaging  itself  from  the  impressions  of 
immediate  sense,  and  by  yielding  itself  to  the  remembrances  of  the 
absent  object.  Although  in  this  way  there  may  be  found  a  species 
of  satisfaction,  yet  it  can  never  be  so  complete,  so  enduring,  so  free 
from  care  as  that  furnished  by  the  senses.  There  is  rather  a  constant 
oscillation  between  the  full  desire  and  the  partial  satisfaction,  a  con- 
dition of  the  soul  which  in  the  case  of  longing,  that  sweet  pain, 
sickens  man  and  blanches  his  cheeks. 


216  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Desire  is  quenched  in  satisfaction.  But  it  may  appear 
again  as  soon  as  the  never  failing  opposing  concepts  press 
into  consciousness  in  consequence  of  relaxing  sense  excitation 
or  failing  attention,  and  the  concept  of  the  desired  object  is 
thrown  from  its  state  of  freedom  back  into  that  of  struggle. 
If  this  is  the  case,  the  way  is  opened  for  a  new  satisfaction, 
and  this  play  between  desire  and  satisfaction  may  continue 
active  for  a  long  time.  This  play  is  especially  engrossing 
when  its  single  acts  pass  over  into  one  another  in  accordance 
with  a  certain  rhythmical  alternation.  It  is  in  this  that  the 
entertainment  of  play  and  the  arts  requiring  time  for  their 
execution  (the  dance,  gymnastics,  theater,  music)  consist, 
whereas  plastic  arts  and  architecture  in  their  unchangeable- 
ness  have  an  element  of  earnestness.  Labor  is  also  broken 

by  a  like  rhythmical  change  of  desire  and  satisfaction. 

• 

Remark  1. — The  more  completely  and  exclusively  the  concept 
mass  concerning  the  desired  object  occupies  our  consciousness,  and 
the  more  completely  the  tension  of  the  desire  is  relieved,  the  more 
perfect  is  the  satisfaction.  Such  a  complete  satisfaction  is  almost 
exclusively  peculiar  to  sensuous  desires,  because  they  are  simplest  in 
their  content,  and  their  satisfaction  is  most  easily  brought  about. 
With  desires  not  sensuous,  the  greater  the  field  of  thought  to  which 
they  relate,  the  more  incomplete  is  the  satisfaction,  for  with  the  mag- 
nitude of  this  field  the  difficulty  of  an  all-sided  release  of  the  many 
tensions  increases.  In  general,  the  richer  the  concept  life  of  man, 
the  more  difficult  does  the  task  become  to  satisfy  fully  the  desires 
which  arise  with  the  growing  activity  of  the  concepts,  and  the  wealth 
of  their  relations.  Therefore,  the  satisfaction  of  the  desires  of  the 
animal,  the  child,  and  the  untutored  savage,  is  probably  much  easier 
than  with  the  cultured  man.D 

Remark  2. — Desire  and  satisfaction  are  related  as  expectation  and 
realization.  Just  as  expectation  idealizes  its  object  through  the  activ- 

1)  Every  desire  arises  either  from  a  sensuous  or  an  intellectual 
need.  The  wealth  of  desires  increases  with  the  number  of  needs. 
The  more  the  spiritual,  social,  and  economic  life  of  man  becomes 
complicated,  the  more  do  his  needs  and  desires  increase,  and  the  more 
difficult  does  it  become  to  satisfy  them.  Compare  the  author's  "Prob- 
lem of  Happiness" — "Problem  des  Glucks," Chap.  III. 


RELATIONS.  217 

ity  of  the  imagination,  so  that  the  fulfillment  is  not  equal  to  the 
expectation,  so  there  are  connected  with  the  satisfaction  of  desires 
the  numerous  well-known  cases  in  which  the  mind  is  disabused  of  its 
erroneous  notions.  The  inhabitant  of  the  city  wants  to  get  into 
the  country,  the  countryman  seeks  the  city;  but  when  the  change 
is  made,  both  find  their  expectations  only  partially  realized. 


\  84.  RELATION  OF  STRIVING  TO  THINKING  AND  FEELING. 

Like  feeling,  desire  also  has  its  seat  in  a  concept  mass. 
There  is  no  more  an  isolated  faculty  of  desire  than  there  is  a 
faculty  of  feeling;  desire  is,  rather,  only  a  form  of  reciprocal 
action  among  the  concepts. 

Desire  is  in  contrast  with  feeling,  since  it  has  an  inde- 
pendent content  of  its  own,  whereas  feeling  is  mostly  hidden 
in  obscurity.  In  the  concept  of  the  desired  object,  desire 
has  a  middle  point,  which  is  lacking  in  feeling;  for  we  must 
know  what  we  desire.  Ignoti  nulla  cupido.  Therefore,  though 
there  are  vague  feelings,  there  are  no  vague  desires.1) 

Yet  desires  and  feelings  are  closely  related  and  each 
often  passes  into  the  other,  since  the  increase  and  decrease, 
that  is,  the  movement,  of  impulse  is  not  conceivable  without 
the  tension  of  feeling;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  tension  of 
concepts  could  not  exist  without  a  movement  among  them. 
Hope,  love,  friendship,  homesickness,  patriotism,  are  mental 
states  which  are  characterized  alike  by  desire  and  feeling. 

In  general,  however,  feeling  is  a  statical,  desire  a  dynam- 
ical act;  in  feeling,  a  concept  mass  is  found  in  equipoise,  aris- 
ing through  reciprocal  tension  among  its  parts — in  desire,  a 
single  concept  releases  itself  from  all  others,  to  be  either 
exalted  or  suppressed  by  them;  in  the  first  case  the  subjec- 
tive state  of  consciousness  may  remain  as  it  is,  since  joy  and 


1)  Perhaps  we  may  class  with  vague  desires,  such  coveted  privi- 
leges as  rest  upon  very  obscure  concepts  of  the  things  desired;  for 
example,  the  longing  of  young  people  to  smoke. 


218  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

pain  are  passively  experienced;  in  the  second,  the  present 
state  of  consciousness  is  to  be  broken  up  in  order  actively  to 
pass  into  another  state. 

Out  of  the  feeling  of  pain  desire  is  naturally  developed 
as  soon  as  the  mental  act  has  reached  a  certain  degree  of 
clearness,  and  the  arrest  of  subordinated  concept  masses  is 
strong  enough  to  offer  serious  resistance.  When  one  knows 
what  the  object  of  discomfort  and  pain  is,  it  is  natural  that 
he  should  strive  to  set  it  aside.  He  who  is  afflicted  with 
homesickness  desires  to  return  home;  the  sick  man  desires 
health;  the  prisoner,  freedom.  Renunciation  and  prohibition 
cause  a  certain  uncomfortable  state  within  us,  on  account  of 
the  pressure  they  exert  upon  our  ordinary  concepts,  out  of 
which  we  seek  to  emerge  by  desire  of  the  forbidden  object 
(nitimur  in  vetium). 

Desires,  therefore,  share  with  feelings  all  the  exigencies 
of  the  course  of  representation.  But  one  may  more  correctly 
speak  of  a  reproduction,  a  memory  and  imagination,  of  desire, 
than  of  feeling;  for,  desires  depend  upon  a  specific  content 
of  thought,  and  return  therefore  as  often  as  in  company 
with  their  associated  concepts  they  appear  in  conscious- 
ness. But  as  the  intensity  of  the  helping  concepts  decreases 
with  time,  so,  also,  the  energy  of  desire  will  diminish;  thus 
desires,  like  feelings,  lose  intensity  with  the  flight  of  time. 
If,  finally,  the  furthering  concepts  become  obscured,  desire 
sinks  to  indifference  ("out  of  sight,  out  of  mind");  desire  may 
even  pass  over  into  its  opposite,  should  the  opposing  prevail 
over  the  furthering  concepts.  Love  for  an  object  may,  in 
this  way,  become  hate,  after  illusion  has  been  destroyed  by 
an  experience  which  corrects  the  view. 

Remark  1. — The  more  our  consciousness  stands  under  the  influ- 
ence of  immediate  sensuousness,  and  the  less  through  lack  of  psycho- 
logical culture  we  pay  attention  to  direct  relations  among  the  con- 
cepts themselves,  the  more  is  the  mind  opened  to  the  excitements 


THE  INTERACTION  OF  DESIRES.  219 

caused  by  desire,  and  the  more  does  it  take  on  a  striving  character. 
The  child  desires  all  that  it  sees,  and  the  uncultured  man  is  noted  for 
his  stormy  greediness;  the  educated  man,  on  the  other  hand,  knows 
how  to  govern  his  desires,  and  the  stoic  philosopher  repelled  desire 
and  its  creating  need  with  logical  consistency.  1)  We  must  not  con- 
fuse this  suppression  of  desire  with  the  modern  blase  state,  which 
rests  upon  mental  and  physical  decadence  and  is  related  rather  to  the 
phlegmatic  condition  of  age. 

Remark  2. — The  frequent  reproduction  of  a  desire  may  greatly 
increase  its  strength.  In  that  the  concept  of  the  desired  object  strives 
against  its  opposing  concepts  in  consciousness,  it  frees  the  former 
obscured  concept  of  the  same  object  by  immediate  reproduction, 
whereby  the  total  power  of  impulse  is  greatly  strengthened,  espe- 
cially when  the  former  desires  have  been  associated  with  satisfaction, 
because  satisfaction  implies  an  overcoming  of  opposition.  In  this 
way  desires  may  grow  into  settled  inclination  and  proneness. 

Remark  3. — Desire  surrounds  the  coveted  object  with  a  certain 
interest,  and  lends  it  a  worth  which  differs  for  different  persons  and 
times  according  to  the  relativity  of  the  desire.  The  thirsty  desire 
water;  the  hungry,  food;  the  bored,  entertainment;  the  tired,  rest; 
the  investigator  desires  the  truth;  the  miserly,  money;  the  impris- 
oned, freedom.  Within  the  circle  of  desire  there  are  gradually  drawn, 
not  only  objects  in  themselves  worthy  of  desire,  but  also  others  which 
though  having  no  such  worthiness  in  themselves,  acquire  a  certain 
utilitarian  value  as  means  for  satisfying  other  desires.  Thus  desire 
embraces  not  only  ends,  but  also  means;  not  only  the  beautiful  and 
good,  but  also  the  useful;  not  only  the  agreeable,  but  also  the  dis- 
agreeable, in  so  far  as  it  serves  as  a  means  for  the  acquirement  of  a 
greater  pleasure. 


§  85.  THE  INTERACTION  OF  DESIRES. 

The  interaction  of  desires  is  given  with  that  of  concepts. 
Desires  further  or  assist   one   another  when   they  are  all 

1)  The  stoical  suppression  of  desire  as  well  as  the  subduing  of 
desires  and  impulses  so  popular  in  the  middle  ages  shoots  above  the 
mark,  for  with  desire  they  threaten  to  eradicate  will,  and  with  this 
the  true  substrate  of  morality.  Not  the  suppression  but  the  govern- 
ment of  desire  is  what  morality  demands  of  us.  The  enfeebled  energy 
of  desire  and  will  are  morally  to  be  disapproved. 


220  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY, 

directed  toward  the  same  object  or  toward  similar  objects; 
they  hinder  or  arrest  each  other  when  directed  toward  mu- 
tually excluding  obj£cts.  Thus,  religious  impulse  is  closely 
related  to  moral  impulse,  and  the  two  mutually  further  each 
other;  love  of  native  land  is  not  at  all  in  the  way  of  its  reform, 
and  both  may  find  their  satisfaction  in  the  same  projects  and 
deeds.  On  the  other  hand,  effort  toward  scientific  progress 
is  not  compatible  with  the  quest  after  sensuous  dissipation 
(card  playing,  drinking,  etc.),  and  the  two  mutually  injure 
each  other. 

The  united  nature  of  the  mind  appears  also  in  the  case 
of  desire.  Our  efforts  are  the  more  energetic  and  persistent 
the  more  they  are  directed  to  one  end,  with  the  exclusion  of 
all  others,  and  the  less  they  are  dissipated  by  multiplicity 
and  contradiction.  Pedagogics  and  psychology  should  have 
regard  to  this  fact,  so  that  they  shall  not  dissipate  and  crip- 
ple the  mental  power  of  man  by  setting  up  too  many  ends  of 
effort.  D  Wherever  there  has  been  a  great  work  to  do,  it  has 
been  accomplished  by  concentration  of  effort.  (Columbus. 
The  principle  of  division  of  labor  in  economic  society.) 

Remark  1. — Things  are  arranged  most  favorably,  not  only  for  the 
outer  result,  but  for  the  mental  and  spiritual  state  of  man,  when  all 
efforts,  like  rays  of  light,  radiate  from  a  central  point,  and  are  again 
related  back  to  it.  This  is  not  easy,  however,  with  the  multitude  of 
excitations  from  within  and  from  without,  and  presupposes  a  recipro- 
cal comparison  and  valuation.  Understanding  and  reason,  prudence 
and  morality  come  in  here. 

Remark  2. — A  conflict  in  desire  arises  when  one  and  the  same 
object  is  in  one  respect  desired  and  in  another  detested.  This  is  pos- 


1)  The  pedagogics  of  the  present  is  in  danger  of  making  the 
efforts  of  the  pupil  superficial  by  dissipation.  Not  only  the  external 
result,  but  also  the  formation  of  character  suffers,  if  the  attention  is 
simultaneously  directed  to  too  many  things  (Language,  Music,  Draw- 
ing, Gymnastics,  Dancing,  Stenography,  and  other  arts).  Unfortu- 
nately the  times  already  make  too  many  demands  upon  the  individual 
in  this  respect. 


THE  INTERACTION  OF  DESIRES.  221 

sible  when  two  separate  fields  of  thought,  M  and  N,  come  into  con- 
sciousness as  opposing  forces,  whereby  one  of  them,  M,  seeks  to  place 
the  concept  L  in  a  state  of  augmentation,  while  the  other,  N,  seeks 
to  place  it  into  a  condition  of  opposition,  or  sinking.  The  final  result 
of  this  contest  will  depend 'upon  which  of  the  lines  of  thought  is 
temporarily  able  to  displace  the  other.  Sense  and  reason  form  two 
great  departments  of  thought,  which,  in  certain  cases  of  desire,  may 
appear  in  consciousness  as  opposed.  But  also  within  one  and  the 
same  sphere  of  .thought  such  interests  and  considerations  may  arise 
as  to  bring  about  a  conflict  of  desire;  in  the  sphere  of  sense,  when 
the  agreeable  and  the  disagreeable  of  different  sorts  (chirurgical 
operations)  struggle  with  each  other;  in,  the  sphere  of  morality,  when 
different  moral  ideas,  as,  for  example,  when  justice  and  mercy  collide. 
That  such  conflicts  can  not  occur  without  a  lively  agitation  of  the 
mind,  and  without  accompanying  feelings  of  pain,  is  a  matter  of 
course. 


CHAPTER  II. 
THE  PARTICULAR  FORMS  OF  DESIRE. 

I  86.  CLASSIFICATION  OF  DESIRES. 

We  may  distinguish  the  following  points  in  regard  to  a 
desire:  1)  its  content,  or  the  concept  of  the  desired  object; 
2)  its  impulse,  or  motive,  as  complex  of  the  furthering  con- 
cepts which  bring  the  concept  of  the  desired  object  into  a  state 
of  striving,  or  impulse;  3)  its  strength;  and  4)  its  duration. 
According  to  content,  a  desire  is  either  sensuous  or  spiritual. 
(Compare  I  83.)  Desire  for  water  is  sensuous;  that  for  the 
solution  of  a  problem,  for  the  determination  of  a  historical 
name  or  date,  for  the  discovery  of  the  truth, — in  general,  for 
spiritual  ends,  is  a  spiritual  desire. 

The  motive  of  a  desire  may  lie  in  an  uncontrolled  play  of 
representation  or  in  the  understanding  or  in  the  reason. 
Upon  this  fact  depends  the  threefold  division  of  desire  into 
desire  proper,  will,  and  self-determination. 

"Will,  as  desire  guided  by  understanding,  is  directed  by 
ideas  as  to  the  attainability  of  the  object  desired,  whereby  a 
judgment  from  the  side  of  the  understanding  is  necessary. 
"We  find  here  not  only  the  ends  desired,  but  also  the  means 
which  lead  to  it,  no  matter  whether  they  are  worthy  of  desire 
or  not.  The  majority  of  the  things  for  which  man  strives, 
possessions,  riches,  business,  and  so  following,  are  only  means 
for  reaching  higher  ends.  By  the  addition  of  judgment  as  to 
the  attainability  of  that  desired,  desire  becomes  will. 

Finally,  however,  judgment  must  turn  from  the  means 
to  the  ends  as  such,  and  raise  the  question,  What  in  itself, 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  DESIRES.  223 

without  regard  to  anything  else,  is  worthy  of  desire?  This 
question  presupposes  a  rational  reflection.  Man  is  free  in 
his  action  when  in  a  state  of  reflection,  because  he  then  hits 
upon  a  choice  among  several  offered  directions  of  will. 
Rational  desire  is  therefore  free  volition,  resting  upon  reflection 
and  self-determination. 

Another  standpoint  for  a  more  graduated  subdivision  is 
found  in  the  combined  relations  of  the  strength  and  duration 
of  desires.  According  to  duration,  desires  may  be  divided 
into  transitory  and  habitual  (enduring).  For  the  strength 
of  desires  there  is  a  fixed  point  in  the  rising  scale  where  the 
desire  ceases  to  be  capable  of  apperception.  Beneath  this 
point  lie  the  desires  which  are  still  under  our  control,  above 
are  the  passionate  desires;  in  the  former  case  we  control  the 
desires;  in  the  latter,  they  control  us.  In  accordance  with 
their  idea,  the  passionate  desires  belong  to  the  enduring 
class;  to  which  also  belong  instinct  and  inclination. 

By  the  combination  of  these  subdivisions  we  arrive  at 
the  following  scheme: — 

DESIRES: 

Transitory:  Habitual: 

A.   The  desires  proper. 
Sensuous  desires.  Inclination,  pro-)  -__._.„._ 

«  j  f     CtU  Ut>l  UCl  V~ 

pensity,  }•    «£je 
Intellectual  desires.  Instinct,  j 

Passionate  desire,  not  apper- 
ceivable. 

B.   The  Will. 
External  will.  Habits  of  will. 

Action  and  deed. 
Internal  will.  Principles  of  will. 

Voluntary  attention. 

C.   Self-Determination. 
The  single  act  of  self-determination.  Character. 


224  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

2  87.  IMPULSE. 

Impulse  is  a  permanent  natural  disposition  of  man  giv- 
ing rise  to  desires  (or  detestations)  which  are  fixed  as  to 
kind,  but  not  as  to  object. 

It  is  distinguished  from  desire  by  the  fact  that  desire  is 
actual,  whereas  impulse  is  habitual;  and  that  the  concept  of 
the  desired  object  precedes  the  volition  in  desire,  but  follows 
it  in  impulse. 

Impulse  has  its  basis  in  disagreeable  sensations  and 
obscure  concepts  which  become  the  seat  of  feelings  of  dis- 
comfort. This  vague  feeling  of  discomfort  creates  the  gen- 
eral, indefinable  impulse  to  pass  from  the  painful  state  of 
mind  into  a  more  agreeable  one,  the  way  thereto  not  being  indi- 
cated by  any  clear  concept.  Impulse  is  therefore  blind,  and 
only  by  means  of  struggle  and  accident  does  man  recognize 
in  certain  objects  the  natural  means  of  satisfaction  for  the 
impulse. 

From  the  unpleasant  sensations  of  hunger  and  thirst 
there  is  originally  developed  a  general  indefinite  impulse  to 
remove  these  sensations  in  some  way.  A  certain  restlessness, 
which  expresses  itself  in  stirring  and  seeking,  impels  the 
animal  and  the  child,  until  both,  perhaps  after  many  unsuc- 
cessful attempts,  find  in  appropriate  food  the  general  means 
for  the  satisfaction  of  hunger  and  thirst.  In  this  way  the 
food  impulse  is  formed,  which  seeks  food  in  general,  but  not 
a  particular  food,  like  oysters  or  trout. 

The  definition  of  this  impulsive  disposition  implies  that 
it  is  a  natural  impulse.  The  disposition  toward  certain 
desires  which  habit,  education,  and  culture  implant  in  man, 
though  not  less  habitual  and  at  times  not  less  powerful,  are 
thereby  excluded.  There  is  no  impulse  for  smoking,  for 
ornamentation,  or  for  political  freedom,  even  though  the 
struggle  for  these  not  seldom  appears  with  all  the  force  of  a 
natural  impulse. 


IMPULSE.  225 

Impulses  may  be  distinguished  as  physical  and  as  psy- 
chical, according  as  their  cause  lies  in  the  excitation  of  the 
nerves  or  of  concepts. 

The  general  excitation  of  motor  nerves  and  muscles 
creates  the  impulse  to  motion,  which  is  particularly  active  in 
children,  but  which  decreases  with  the  decreasing  activity 
of  the  nerves  and  muscles  in  age.  The  kicking  of  the  infant, 
the  wantonness  of  the  boy,  the  gymnastic  play  of  youth  and 
men  are  an  expression  of  this  impulse.  Every  physical 
restraint  (fetters,  stocks,  etc.)  appears  as  a  painful  con- 
dition, because  it  suppresses  this  impulse  to  motion.  Other 
physical  impulses  are  those  of  a  sexual  nature  and  those  of 
hunger. 

As  psychical  impulse,  we  may  mention  the  universal 
concept  impulse,  which  appears  as  an  impulse  for  spiritual 
food,  and  which  has  its  basis  in  the  struggle  for  movement 
among  the  concepts.  Spiritual  ennui,  brought  about  by  a 
lack  of  sufficient  flow  of  representation,  is  a  well-known  tor- 
menting condition;  whereas  entertainment,  with  its  free 
change  of  concepts,  is  the  most  desired  form  of  satisfaction 
for  this  state. 

Other  psychical  impulses  are  those  for  communication 
and  society.  In  a  certain  sense,  there  may  also  be  added  the 
impulsive  desire  for  honor,  possession,  and  dominion. 

There  are  also  mixed  impulses,  whose  explanation  is  to 
be  sought  as  well  in  the  bodily  as  in  the  spiritual  organi- 
zation of  man.  Among  these  may  be  classed  the  impulse  to 
activity  arising  from  the  desire  for  physical  motion  and  for 
mental  movement,  and  the  general  impulse  for  preservation 
which  causes  man  to  undertake  everything  in  order  to  sustain 
his  own  existence  and  to  rescue  it  from  danger.1) 

1)  From  the  circumstance  that  he  is  often  unskillful  in  this,  since, 
for  example,  when  in  danger  of  drowning,  he  raises  his  arms  out  of 
the  water  instead  of  keeping  them  under,  thus  promoting  his  own 
sinking,  it  does  not  follow  that  he  has  no  impulse  towards  self-preser- 


226  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

In  the  animal  world  impulse  takes  the  form  of  instinct, 
of  which  merely  a  few  beginnings  are  found  in  reflex-action. 
(Comp.  §  25.)  Instinct  is  distinguished  from  impulse  in  the 
fact  that  it  leads  not  only  to  desire,  but  to  its  satisfaction. 
It  rests  upon  such  a  constitution  of  the  animal  organism  that, 
on  account  of  a  sensation  arising  in  the  seat  of  desire,  the 
organism  produces  of  itself  movements  which  lead  to  the 
satisfaction  of  this  desire,  after  the  analogy  of  reflex-action, 
and  thereby  secure  the  preservation  and  continuation  of 
organic  life.  The  intelligence  which  directs  man  in  his  move- 
ments and  deeds  is  mostly  represented  by  instinct  in  the 
animal  world,  in  accordance  with  which  animals  act  in  the 
choice  of  food,  the  structure  of  dwelling  place  (nest),  in  mi- 
grations, and  cunning  artifices. 

Remark. — As  contrasted  with  man,  the  animal  is  in  every  respect 
more  limited,  and  his  bodily  structure  is  therefore  pre-formed  for  par- 
ticular movements  and  activities,  which,  stimulated  by  instinct,  give 
rise  to  the  movements  necessary  to  satisfy  the  awakened  desire.  The 
young  duck  knows  instinctively,  upon  its  first  contact  with  water,  that 
its  body  is  adapted  to  the  water,  and  also  through  what  movements  it 
can  sustain  itself  therein.  In  the  same  way  men  have  explained  the 
art  instincts  of  certain  animals  having  peculiarly  constructed  organs; 
these  animals  need  only  to  produce  activity  in  the  mechanism  of  their 
organs,  when  after  a  few  attempts  the  movement  is  directed  of  itself 
along  the  lines  which  correspond  to  the  idea  realized  in  the  organism 
of  the  animal;  the  spider  will  spin,  the  beaver  will  build.  It  is  a 
more  difficult  matter  when  we  try  to  explain  the  particulars  of 
instinctive  activities  in  these  animals,  and  to  tell  why  it  is  that  bees 
always  build  six-sided  cells,  that  every  nightingale  follows  the  note 
peculiar  to  its  species,  that  the  political  constitution  of  the  ant  state 
is  the  same  in  all  places,  and  that  every  individual  ant,  without  much 
instruction,  adjusts  itself  to  the  social  order.  These  individual  facts 


vation,  but  only  that  he  is  lacking  in  the  instinct  which,  for  illustra- 
tion, guides  the  aquatic  animal.  Should  man  live  more  in  water, 
experience  would  soon  teach  him  to  make  the  right  motions,  and  to 
satisfy  the  impulse  for  self-preservation  in  the  water  as  he  does  upon 
the  land  by  keeping  his  equilibrium,  and  so  forth. 


INCLINATION  AND  PROPENSITY.  227 

seem  to  prove  that  instinct  can  do  much,  but  not  all,  that  even  here 
much  is  determined  by  change  in  impressions  of  sense  arising  from 
the  immediate  neighborhood;  for  we'  see  animals  taking  account  of 
changeable  locality  in  which  they  find  themselves.  We  see  them  in 
their  activities  repeating  unsuccessful  efforts,  improving  the  deficient, 
etc.  The  wasp,  for  instance,  uses  in  building  its  nest  a  paper-like 
mass  made  from  wood  shavings  and  water;  but  if  ready-made  paper 
Is  at  hand,  it  chooses  this  before  all  else. 


I  88.  INCLINATION  AND  PROPENSITY. 

Desire  is  an  individual,  transitory  act — impulse  an  inner 
disposition,  which  ever  excites  anew  a  specific  longing.  In- 
clination also,  with  its  opposite,  disinclination,  is  a  disposi- 
tion to  a  particular  desire  or  the  opposite,  and  manifests 
itself  in  frequently  returning  desires  of  the  same  sort. 

While,  however,  impulse  lies  deeply  grounded  in  human 
nature  and  is  therefore  permanent,  inclination  has  its  root 
in  a  specific  round  of  concepts,  which  arising  in  a  psychical 
manner,  may  again  be  destroyed.  Inclinations  have  there- 
fore something  changeable  in  them,  and  vary  with  the  trend 
of  thought  from  which  they  sprang.  The  inclinations  of  the 
youth  are  different  from  those  of  the  man. 

If  a  desire  is  often  in  consciousness  it  becomes  a  habit, 
and  produces  an  inclination,  i)  When  one  has  often  satisfied 
the  desire  to  play  chess,  it  is  possible  that  this  desire  should 
become  a  habit,  and  therefore  an  inclination. 

It  is  known  that  the  inclinations  of  man  attach  not  only 
to  his  habits  but  to  his  natural  capacities,  or  aptitudes.  We 

1)  As  is  known,  the  satisfaction  of  desire  is  accompanied  by 
feelings  of  pleasure;  these  attach  themselves  to  the  concept  of  the 
desired  objects  as  "helps,"  and  thus  bring  this  concept  into  the  state 
of  striving  with  an  ease  corresponding  to  the  number  of  times  which 
we  have  already  satisfied  the  desire.  There  is  thus  formed  in  the 
compass  of  thought  which  surrounds  the  given  concept  a  disposition 
to  desire,  which  we  call  inclination.  This  disposition  will  lead  to 
actual  desire  as  often  as  thought  turns  to  the  given  group  of  concepts. 


228  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

understand  by  these  the  sum  of  certain  organic  conditions 
which  are  favorable  to  a  given  activity.  The  greater  the 
aptitude  of  a  man  for  anything,  so  much  the  easier  will  he 
form  an  inclination  for  it;  for  the  capacity  insures  the  suc- 
cess, and  the  feeling  of  successful  activity  (§  69)  makes  the 
return  of  the  desire  a  wished-for  consummation;  i.  e.,  leads 
desire  over  into  inclination.  Man  will  scarcely  form  an  incli- 
nation for  that  for  which  he  lacks  natural  aptitude.  Edu- 
cation must  take  special  note  of  aptitude  and  inclination. 

Where  natural  disposition  is  favorable  to  an  inclination, 
or  when  it  has  grown  up  with  us  through  long  habit,  incli- 
nation becomes  propensity.  It  is  an  inclination  so  strong  that 
it  acts  like  a  natural  impulse,  and  is  often  mistaken  for  it. 

The  opposite  of  inclination  is  aversion,  as  disposition  to 
shun  an  object. 

Remark  1. — The  aptitudes  of  men  are  intimately  connected  with 
their  bodily  organization,  especially  with  certain  peculiarities  of  the 
nervous  system,  both  of  central  parts  and  peripheral  ramifications. 
A  hearing  sensitive  to  differences  in  tone  gives  aptitude  for  music;  a 
fine  sense  of  form,  coupled  with  especially  favorable  structure  of 
hand,  gives  capacity  for  sculpture;  an  active  fancy,  combined  with 
aesthetic  taste,  gives  aptitude  for  poetry.  Those  inclinations  of  men 
which  are  founded  upon  clearly  marked  aptitudes,  often  manifest  an 
energy  and  persistence  which  place  them  near  to  natural  impulses. 
The  painter  must  paint,  though  with  charcoal  on  the  wall;  the  musi- 
cian must  sing;  the  poet  must  write. 

Remark  2. — Where  the  object  of  inclination  or  aversion  is  a  human 
being,  the  name  love  or  hate  is  used.  Yet  these  terms  are  used  meta- 
phorically for  soulless  things.  Thus  the  musician  loves  his  violin,  the 
gardener  his  flowers,  etc.  Love  and  hate  are  distinguished  from 
simple  desire  or  aversion  through  the  fact  that  the  preservation  of 
the  loved  or  hated  object  is  considered,  and  that  the  attractive  or 
repulsive  feeling  may  be  constant.  Not  only  love  preserves  its  object, 
but  hate  also  nourishes  it,  in  order  the  longer  to  persecute  it 


RULING  PASSIONS.  239 

I  89.    RULING  PASSIONS. 

Impulse,  inclination,  and  propensity  contain  in  them- 
selves dispositions  to  desire  which  manifest  themselves  in  a 
great  variety  of  desires.  But  these  desires  are  capable  of 
being  subordinated  by  principles  (apperceiving), — the  ego  of 
man,  wherein  principles  have  their  basis,  shows  itself  stronger 
than  the  desire,  the  inclination,  or  the  proneness,  and  even 
natural  impulse  itself  may  be  held  within  bounds  by  rational 
reflection. 

A  strong  desire  is  not  in  itself  a  ruling  passion.  It  be- 
comes such  when  it  penetrates  all  fields  of  thought,  subordi- 
nating the  whole  mind  with  all  its  interests  to  itself,  and 
suffering  no  higher  power  along  side  itself  in  consciousness. 
A  passion  in  the  broad  sense  is  therefore  a  desire  which  has 
grown  so  strong  that  it  no  longer  suffers  itself  to  be  apperceived, 
but  itself  rules  consciousness  as  an  apperceiving  concept  mass. 

In  this  there  is  something  anomalous  and  wrong,  for  the 
highest  apperceiving  concept  mass  ought  not  to  be  a  desire, 
but  rather  a  rational  insight.1)  The  consequence  of  this 
anomaly  is  a  more  or  less  significant  change  in  the  estimation 
of  the  value  of  the  various  interests  and  affairs  of  men.  The 
objective  measure  of  value  is  lost  when  the  sway  of  reason  is 
abolished,2)  and  that  of  subjective,  one-sided  passion  is  estab- 
lished, whereby  things  assume  a  worth  according  as  they 
serve  as  means  for  the  satisfaction  of  passionate  desire. 

In  another  sense  also  the  mental  state  of  the  passionate 
"suffers."  Health  of  mental  life  consists  in  the  capacity  of 

1)  In  regard  to  its  origin,  desire  always  contains  an  element  of 
the  accidental,  is  subordinated  in  its  course  to  constant  modifications 
and  contains  the  source  of  constant  agitations  of  feeling.     Such  a 
concept  structure,  thoroughly  dependent  on  subjective  conditions, 
does  not  suffice  for  the  rule  of  consciousness,  which  should  be  gov- 
erned rather  by  a  permanent  insight,  fixed  by  objective  determina- 
tions; i.  e.,  by  understanding  and  reason. 

2)  Not  that  insight  is  totally  wanting;  it  is  there,  but  it  is  like 
the  voice  of  a  traveler  in  a  desert. 


230  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

the  concepts  to  be  reciprocally  determined,  the  one  by  the 
other.  In  this  sense  the  passionate  man  is  not  entirely  sound 
mentally;  because  with  him  this  reciprocal  determinable 
character  of  the  concepts  is  lost,  and  the  passion  concepts 
rule  the  whole  consciousness,  without  allowing  themselves  to 
be  adjusted  by  other  concept  groups,  however  important. 
Passion  is  blind  and  deaf  to  all  opposing  concepts  of  insight. 
The  gambler  can  not  leave  his  play,  although  his  friends  or 
his  best  friend,  and  his  own  reason,  prove  to  him  beyond  a 
shadow  of  a  doubt  that  he  will  ruin  himself  and  his  family 
by  gambling.  The  passionate  man  is  neither  rational  nor 
free  in  his  action,  because  he  conducts  himself  in  opposition 
to  his  better  judgment  and  his  own  ego,  in  which  this  judg- 
ment in  the  form  of  an  apperceiving  concept  mass  constitutes 
an  important  part. 

The  disturbed  mental  health  of  the  passionate  man  is 
revealed  to  the  dispassionate  observer  in  the  fact  that  the 
object  of  the  passion  is  not  worthy  of  being  made  the  center 
of  all  striving  and  sensibility;  and  that  even  where  the  object 
is  a  noble  one  in  itself,  as  for  instance,  native  land  or  nation 
or  freedom,  the  victim  of  passion  does  not,  in  his  action,  hold 
himself  free  from  extreme  estimation  of  its  importance,  as 
contrasted  with  other  interests  of  man. 

Remark  1. — An  essential  element  in  passion  is  its  duration,  because 
this  is  an  important  condition  of  its  strength.  A  passionate  outburst 
may  well  be  a  violent  emotion,  but  it  is  not  a  passion.  Traces  of  pas- 
sionate striving  are  found  in  all  men.  It  is  a  matter  of  reason  and 
moral  duty  to  suppress  passion  in  its  earliest  stages.  (The  term  pas- 
sion is  also  used  to  describe  sudden  and  violent  outbursts  of  emotion, 
as  of  anger. — 2V.) 

Remark  2. — The  man  who  is  ruled  by  a  passion  finds  himself  in  a 
very  anomalous  mental  condition;  with  him  the  center  of  gravity  for 
his  mental  life  is  shifted  to  the  group  of  concepts  which  pertain  to 
the  object  of  his  passionate  desire,  all  other  interests  being  violently 
shoved  aside.  He  regards  nothing  not  connected  in  some  way  with 


GROWTH  OF  PASSION.  231 

the  object  of  his  desire;  the  miser  regards  the  world  from  the  stand- 
point of  possession,  the  ambitious  man  from  that  of  distinction  above 
others,  the  sensualist  from  that  of  the  gratification  of  the  senses. 
For  the  victim  of  passion,  nature  in  vain  unrolls  the  sublime  picture 
of  her  eternal  rest;  he  is  blind  to  her  ever  renewed  beauty,  dull  to 
the  pleasures  of  art,  deaf  to  the  teachings  of  science.  Desire  is  alone 
able  to  move  him.  The  gambler  has  thought  only  for  the  gaming  table, 
the  miser  only  for  the  accumulation  of  useless  property,  the  sensual- 
ist only  for  the  images  of  pleasure.  The  noble  enjoyments  which  offer 
themselves  upon  all  sides  to  the  unbiased  mind — the  panorama  of 
colors,  the  harmony  of  tones,  the  association  with  noble  minded  men, 
the  stimulus  of  intellectual  and  aesthetic  pleasures;  poetry,  art,liter- 
ature — all  go  for  nothing  to  the  mind  closed  by  a  passion. 


§  90.  THE  GROWTH  OF  PASSION;  ITS  RISE  AND  DECLINE. 

A  passion  is  a  desire  grown  dominant.  Since  every  desire 
has  its  root  in  a  particular  concept  mass,  the  rise  of  a  pas- 
sion presupposes  the  formation  of  an  exclusive  concept  group, 
in  which  it  rests,  and  from  which  it  draws  its  strength.  This 
exclusive  group  of  concepts  must  also  be  the  strongest  known 
to  consciousness.  All  other  concepts  of  the  man,  together 
with  their  attendant  feelings  and  desires,  must  be  subordi- 
nated to  this  one. 

The  desire  may  obtain  this  firm  concept  basis  by  taking 
its  rise  either  in  the  natural  impulses  or  in  those  habits  and 
inclinations  which  have  become  second  nature;  these  may 
indeed  become  passions  as  well  by  means  of  excess  as  through 
lack  of  satisfaction. 

Desire  strengthens  with  every  gratification  (Comp.  \  84; 
also  the  Remark).  If  a  man  neglects  to  suppress  the  growing 
desire  now  and  then  with  other  nobler  and  opposing  aspira- 
tions, if  he  fails  to  apperceive  it  by  means  of  stronger  con- 
cept masses;  if  on  the  contrary  he  gives  it  free  rein,  it  may 
well  happen  that  the  desire  will  pass  from  the  stages  of  incli- 


232  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

nation  and  propensity  into  that  of  passion.  Most  passions 
arise  from  lack  of  moral  discipline,  and  the  older  they  grow, 
the  more  difficult  does  their  mastery  become. 

Entire  denial  of  satisfaction,  especially  with  melancholy 
natures,  may  inflame  the  powerful  desire  into  a  passion. 
External  opposition  to  satisfaction  erects  a  dam,  against 
which  the  stream  of  desire  struggles.  If  the  stream  is  too 
weak  to  break  down  the  dam,  it  dashes  itself  against  it, 
spreads  over  the  surface,  and  finds  an  outlet  in  other  en- 
deavors; if  powerful  enough,  it  breaks  the  dam,  and  rushes 
on  with  unchecked  freedom.  Unsatisfied  desire  may  also  be 
transformed  into  a  silent  longing;  or,  increasing  with  oppo- 
sition, it  may  grow  into  a  passion.1) 

In  the  moment  when  the  powerful  desire  increases  to  a 
passion,  it  at  once  takes  on  the  deceptive  guise  of  freedom 
and  of  strength  of  character.  The  old  historical  ego  concept, 
with  its  apperceiving  masses  of  concepts,  is  indeed  sup- 
pressed, but  a  new  ego — the  man  of  passion — takes  its  place, 
and  this  ego  knows  no  opposition,  no  reflection,  no  choice  of 
means.  If  the  object  of  the  passion  chances  to  be  a  noble 
one,  as,  for  example,  patriotism,  friendship,  national  or 
humanitarian  endeavor,  it  may  be  that  in  this  stage  of  passion 
great  things  may  be  done.  The  great  deeds  of  history,  which 
we  to-day  admire,  have  mostly  sprung  from  noble  passion. 

But  the  apparent  freedom  and  grandeur  of  passion 
diminish  according  as  the  contradictions  come  to  light,  which 
exist  between  the  whole  field  of  thought  in  passion,  its  under- 
takings and  deeds,  and  the  old  historical  ego  of  the  man  and 
his  better  (moral)  insight.  These  contradictions  are  never 
lacking,  and  a  noted  psychologist  (W.  F.  Volkmann)  remarks, 
' '  The  freedom  of  passion  would  only  be  true  freedom  if  there 


1)  The  oft-cited  expression  of  Rochefoucauld  is  here  appropriate, 
that  opposition  is  to  our  passions  what  the  storm  wind  is  to  burning 
brands;  the  smaller  are  extinguished,  but  the  larger  are  fanned  into 
flame. 


GROWTH  OF  PASSION.  233 

were  no  conscience. "  From  Diderot  to  Hegel,  passion  has 
not  lacked  for  advocates  who  have  sought  to  derive  all  great 
things  from  it;  but  even  if  passion  is  not  at  all  times  immoral 
(think  of  fanatics  in  humanitarianism  and  religion),  it  is 
at  least  always  dangerous  to  morality,  because  it  may  at  any 
instant  collide  with  the  conscience  of  man,  when  the  latter 
must  succumb  (as,  for  example,  when  a  fanatic  in  well-doing 
would  steal  leather  from  the  rich  in  order  to  make  shoes  for. 
the  poor). 

Passion  furnishes  a  still  sadder  picture  in  the  stage  of 
inevitable  degeneration.  The  charm  of  desire  is  dulled  by 
excessive  gratification,  the  break  between  the  passionate 
consciousness  and  conscience  gives  rise  to  bitter  remorse, 
and  the  feeling  of  power,  apparently  so  great  in  the  man  of 
passion,  collapses  into  pitiful  helplessness.  It  is  seldom  that 
man  is  stimulated  by  passion  to  a  moral  life;  in  many  cases 
the  result  is  spiritual  and  physical  degeneration,  so  that  pas- 
sion breathes  out  its  life  in  bursts  of  enfeebled  emotion  or 
ends  in  despair. 

Remark. — To  guard  against  passion  is  one  of  the  chief  duties 
of  man.  He  will  not  easily  sink  beneath  the  yoke  of  passion  if  accus- 
tomed to  a  moral  discipline  through  early  obedience  to  the  commands 
of  parent  and  teacher,  as  well  as  to  the  regulations  of  society  (civil 
and  local),  through  strictness  and  toughening,  moderation  and  absti- 
nence, the  avoidance  of  eccentric  pleasures,  and  above  all  through 
yielding  to  a  habit  of  thought  rich  in  moral  ideals.  The  curing  of 
passion  will  be  so  much  the  more  difficult,  the  more  it  has  fastened  its 
roots  in  the  whole  consciousness,  and  the  more  sensuous  passion,  e.  g., 
drunkenness,  has  found  a  strengthening  resonance  in  the  organic 
changes  in  the  body.  Here  the  food  of  passion  must  be  withdrawn; 
i.  e.,  it  must  be  forcibly  torn  away  from  the  compass  of  thought  in 
which  it  has  its  seat.  To  this  end  certain  soul  doctors  have  recom- 
mended the  transference  of  the  subject  into  another  and  opposing 
passion,  which  is  evidently  absurd.  An  elevated  view  into  a  world  of 
ideal  moral  relations  is  better  for  the  patient  than  the  fog  of  a  new 
passion.  "Great  interests  cure  the  littleness  of  passion."  A  noble 


234  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

friend,  an  elevating  lecture,  scientific  study,  enjoyment  of  art,  relig- 
ious culture,  but  above  all  a  moral  deed,  may  be  the  guide-post  to  a 
new,  harmonious,  and  satisfactory  life.  Here,  least  of  all,  will  gruff 
opposition  and  barbarous  treatment  produce  good  results.  "On  the 
contrary,  the  experience  has  recently  been  made  that  even  ferocious 
beasts  can  be  made  gentle  by  good  care  which  relieves  and  anticipates 
their  needs.  What  is  to  hinder  the  assumption  that  the  rapacity  of 
the  tiger  and  the  hyena  is  a  passion  which  arose  from  acute  unsatis- 
fied hunger  and  then  became  habitual?  We  see  at  least  that  the 
chained  dog  is  made  as  ferocious  by  his  long  suffering  as  would  be 
the  case  with  a  man."  (Herbart  Psych.,  II.,  p.  112.) 


g  91.  VARIETIES  OF  PASSION. 

Any  desire  may  become  a  passion,  as  soon  as  it  obtains 
an  apperceiving  influence  over  all  concept  masses  of  the 
(potential)  consciousness,  and  it  remains  such  as  long  as  this 
influence  continues. 

A  strong  motive,  such  as  is  offered  through  the  senses, 
is  important  here.  On  this  account  most  passions  arise  from 
natural  impulses,  the  physical  as  well  as  the  psychical. 

The  food  impulse  may  degenerate  into  gluttony  and 
drunkenness  (intemperance  in  eating  and  drinking) — the 
sexual  impulse  into  lust — the  general  impulse  of  self-preser- 
vation into  selfishness,  which  recognizes  nothing  but  self — 
the  impulse  to  activity  into  a  passion  for  play  (not  that  which 
arises  from  a  love  of  gain)  and  entertainment — the  impulse 
to  communicate  into  love  of  gossip — the  social  impulse  to 
love,  which  may  also  become  passionate,  and  may  embrace 
the  individual,  the  family,  the  nation,  and  even  all  humanity 
in  fanatical  friendship,  family  love,  or  patriotism. 

Rudely  repulsed  in  its  devotion  to  another  personality, 
love,  in  consequence  of  injured  feeling  of  self,  springs  into 
its  opposite,  hate,  which  is  mostly  directed  towards  individ- 
uals. While  love,  uncertain  of  its  object,  is  tormented  with 
jealousy,  hate  breaks  out  in  search  for  revenge  or  humiliation. 


VARIETIES  OF  PASSION.  235 

Honor,  passion,  power,  appear  to  selfishness  as  the  high- 
est objects  of  desire,  and  hence  selfishness  manifests  itself  as 
ambition,  avarice,  and  struggle  for  dominion.  Ambition 
seeks  recognition  of  the  personal  ego  in  the  consciousness  of 
other  persons;  it  is  not  ignoble  when  it  is  satisfied  with  the 
quiet  recognition  and  moral  approval  of  others;  it  becomes 
vanity,  however,  when  it  seeks  for  outer  acknowledgment  of 
inner  worth;  it  is  transformed  into  pride  and  haughtiness 
when  it  elevates  itself  above  others,  underestimating  them; 
or  it  becomes  the  pursuit  of  fame  when  its  aspirations  fly 
higher.  Niggardliness  and  avarice,  as  passionate  pursuit 
after  possession,  try  to  bring  material  wealth  under  the 
sway  of  the  ego,  in  order  to  make  it  the  means  of  satisfying 
desire;  they  overshoot  the  mark,  however,  because  in  the 
gathering  of  wealth  they  forget  its  purpose,  and  thus  make 
the  means  an  end. 

The  struggle  for  dominion  ignores  dead  property,  but 
seeks  to  bring  other  free  and  equal  personalities  under  the 
rule  of  the  one  ego.  This  is  what  brings  slavery  and  despot- 
ism into  the  world's  history,  and,  as  a  reaction,  produces  the 
mania  for  liberty,  which  in  its  passionate  state  manifests 
itself  as  "despotism  from  beneath  upward." 

The  scheme  of  the  passions  is  not  yet  concluded;  for  not 
only  may  each  passion  mentioned  be  shaped  according  to  the 
individual  qualities  of  its  object,  as  well  as  the  minor  modes  of 
its  origination  (what  aspects  do  not  love  and  hate  assume  ?),  but 
it  may  produce  entirely  unique  relations  and  passions;  e.  g., 
the  mania  for  gathering  postage  stamps,1)  for  betting,  etc. 
Wherever  passion  applies  itself  with  one-sided  exclusiveness, 
as,  for  example,  in  gathering  postage  stamps,  it  takes  on  the 
character  of  monomania,  and  approaches  very  close  to  insanity. 

1)  There  are  now  several  newspapers  for  stamp  collectors.  The 
melancholy  disposition  of  the  English  is  very  favorable  to  the  rise  of 
monomania;  yet  the  same  characteristic  is  also  found  upon  the  con- 
tinent. 


236  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark. — Crudity  as  well  as  culture  has  its  passions.  In  the  for- 
mer they  arise  from  the  lack  of  apperceiving  concepts;  in  the  latter 
from  the  many  needs  which  culture  produces. 


g  92.  VIOLENT  EMOTION  AND  PASSION. 

Passion  as  a  permanent  mental  state  is  not  seldom  con- 
founded with  violent  emotion  (passion  in  the  narrow  sense). 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  two  states  are  related,  since  in  both 
free  self-determination  is  altered  and  the  normal  equipoise  of 
the  concepts  powerfully  disturbed  on  account  of  the  suppres- 
sion of  the  ego  concept. 

But  with  sudden  emotion  this  disturbance  is  momentary, 
being  conditioned  by  physiological  reaction;  it  is  lasting, 
however,  with  passion,  on  account  of  permanent  distortion 
of  the  whole  round  of  spiritual  interests  of  man.  Both  are 
blind,  because  they  destroy  a  correct  perception  of  things  as 
they  are.  But  this  blindness,  in  the  case  of  sudden  emotion, 
arises  from  the  suppression  of  the  activity  of  the  understand- 
ing (thought  in  general);  in  the  case  of  passion,  from  the 
arrest  of  the  activity  of  reason.  The  man  with  a  ruling  pas- 
sion is  blind  to  everything  which  lies  outside  the  realm  of 
concepts  pertaining  to  his  passion;  within  this  realm  he  often 
develops  a  sharp  power  of  vision  and  a  great  acuteness  in 
the  choice  of  means  to  the  desired  end,  which  is  not  the  case 
with  those  emotions  which  rob  man  of  his  power  of  reflection. 

Ruling  passions  and  violent  emotions  are  to  be  dis- 
tinguished also  in  other  respects.  The  latter  arise  from  feel- 
ings, but  passions  from  desire;  violent  emotions  are  more 
superficial,  passions  have  their  roots  deep  in  the  mind;  these 
emotions  embrace  the  actual,  passions  the  potential  con- 
sciousness (§  27);  on  account  of  their  violence,  emotions  are 
expressed  physically,  passions  are  compatible  with  the  utmost 
outward  quiet  and  coolness;  emotion  undermines  more  the 


VIOLENT  EMOTION  AND  PASSION.  237 

bodily  welfare,  passion  endangers  the  mental  health  and  the 
moral  state  of  man. 

The  one  is  more  acute,  the  other  more  chronic:  hence 
the  principle, — the  more  violent  emotion,  the  less  passion;  e.  g. , 
the  easier  the  equipoise  of  the  concepts  is  raised  to  the  height 
of  violent  emotion  through  momentary  influences,  the  more 
difficult  will  it  be  to  produce  that  permanent,  all  embracing, 
distorted  state  of  mind,  which  is  the  essence  of  passion. 

Yet  there  are  states  of  mind  in  which  passion  and  vio- 
lent emotion  go  hand  in  hand.  If  the  latter  is  repeated  often 
enough,  it  may  become  fixed  as  a  passion — passion  may  tem- 
porarily break  out  into  violence.  The  paroxysms  of  passion 
are  these  same  violent  emotions  (passions  in  the  sorrow  sense). 

In  this  respect,  however,  the  passions  vary  greatly. 
Some  whose  passions  spread  out  over  the  whole  potential  con- 
sciousness and  in  this  way  acquire  a  very  broad  basis,  are 
very  free  from  agitations  of  emotion ;  as,  for  example,  the  cool, 
calculating  miser.  Others,  with  whom  the  sickness  of  the 
soul  is  centered  in  a  very  limited  group  of  concepts,  break 
out  so  much  the  easier  into  violent  emotions,  as  is  the  case 
with  love  and  hate. 

Remark  1. — Passion  produces  a  one-sided  narrowing  of  attention 
to  its  peculiar  line  of  thought;  it  arms  the  eye  for  this  group  of  con- 
cepts, while  diminishing  its  power  for  all  else  (keenness  of  jealousy, 
of  avarice).  This  one-sidedness  makes  itself  felt  in  thinking  through 
the  warped  but  often  very  acute  judgments  of  the  man  of  passion. 
Memory  and  imagination  are  active  within  this  one-sided  sphere; 
reason  and  self-consciousness  (the  historical  ego)  are  more  or  less 
suppressed. 

Remark  2. — It  was  one  of  the  many  services  of  Kant  to  psychol- 
ogy sharply  to  distinguish  between  passion  and  violent  emotion.  The 
works  of  Maas  and  Feuchtersleben  are  worthy  of  note  as  contribu- 
tions to  the  literature  of  the  passions,  and  among  the  older  writers, 
those  of  Descartes  and  Spinoza. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WILL. 
§  93.  WILL  IN  GENERAL. 

Desire  in  accordance  with  its  idea  seeks  satisfaction.  If 
this  appears  impossible,  the  impulse  remains  mere  wish,  and 
has  no  further  significance;  but  if  to  the  desire  there  is  added 
a  belief  in  the  attainability  of  the  object  of  desire,  the  desire 
passes  into  will,  which  reveals  itself  in  action  and  deeds. 

An  object  of  desire  is  attainable  when  it  appears  as  the 
final  member  of  a  series  of  changes  which  are  related  as  cause 
and  effect,  the  first  member  of  the  series  proceeding  from 
the  ego  who  wills.  If  such  a  causal  series  comes  to  the  sup- 
port of  any  desire,  the  desire  is  transformed  into  will;  the 
object  is  not  only  desired,  it  is  willed;  there  is  no  insurmount- 
able obstacle  in  the  way  of  the  realization  of  the  desire. 

The  construction  of  such  a  causal  series  is  a  matter  of 
the  understanding,  in  connection  with  memory  and  imagi- 
nation. Memory  calls  up  causal  series  (§  35)  which,  as  ex- 
perience in  various  cases  has  shown,  have  led  to  certain 
definite  results,  and  imagination  constructs,  if  need  be,  vari- 
ous needful  modifications  and  combinations  of  these  series, 
the  judgment  must  choose  from  among  them  those  which  will 
lead  most  surely  to  the  desired  object.  The  acuteness  of 
the  understanding  is  shown  in  this  choice. 

"Will  means,  then,  the  desire  for  a  certain  result,  and 
the  certainty  of  its  attainment,  or  at  least  a  belief  in  the 
attainability  of  the  desired  object;  for  in  the  mental  state 


WILL  IN  GENERAL.  239 

called  will  it  is  indifferent  whether  the  causal  series  actually 
leads  to  the  attainment  of  the  desire  or  not;  the  subjective 
conviction,  the  belief  in  the  attainability  of  what  is  desired 
is  here  sufficient.  The  impossible  may  therefore  be  willed  as 
soon  as  it  appears  to  us  as  possible;  and  for  the  same  reason 
we  can  only  desire  that  which  is  really  possible  and  practi- 
cable, so  long  as  we  are  lacking  in  insight  as  to  ways  and 
means  of  reaching  it.  The  unreasoning  child  wills  that 
which  tho  adult  merely  desires;  the  inexperienced  youth  wills 
far  more  than  the  man,  who  has  often  tested  his  strength  in 
trying  to  realize  his  desires. 

The  clearer  the  insight  as  to  the  attainability  of  an  ob- 
ject, the  more  conscious  a  man  is  that  he  can  obtain  what  he 
desires,  the  stronger  his  will  is. 

But  since  actual  experience  alone  can  give  true  informa- 
tion regarding  this  point,  will  increases  in  energy  with  the 
number  of  actually  attained  results,  and  we  appear  with  the 
greatest  decision  and  firmness  of  will  upon  those  fields  in 
which  repeated  experience  has  taught  the  effectiveness  of  our 
powers  in  reaching  results  sought  for. 

Remark  1. — Hence  the  modesty  of  will  with  which  the  first 
attempts  in  a  new  field  are  made,  and  the  increasing  confidence  and 
even  audacity  which  follow  repeated  success.  How  weak  and  anxious 
the  will  of  a  rope-walker  is  likely  to  be  which  induces  him  for  the 
first  time  to  mount  the  rope,  and  with  what  courage  he  goes  upon  it 
after  the  experience  of  many  years  has  taught  him  his  own  power! 
The  oftener  in  general  the  volitional  acts  of  a  man  are  crowned  with 
success,  the  more  does  the  habit  of  seeing  his  desires  gratified  grow 
upon  him,  and  the  more  frequently  does  desire  pass  into  willing. 
Hence  his  displeasure  when  fate  denies  satisfaction  to  such  a  man. 

Remark  2. — Herbart  characterizes  willing  very  happily.  "He 
who  says,  'I  will'  has  already  mastered  the  future  in  his  thought;  he 
sees  himself  already  completing,  possessing,  enjoying.  Show  him 
that  he  can  not,  he  wills  no  longer,  provided  he  understands  you. 
The  desire  may  perhaps  remain,  and  rave  tumultuously  or  attempt  to 


240  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

gain  satisfaction  with  all  cunning.  In  this  fact  there  is  a  new  exer- 
cise of  will,  not  exerted  towards  the  object  directly,  but  towards  the 
movements  which  one  makes  when  he  knows  himself  master  of  them, 
hoping  by  means  of  skillful  combination  to  reach  the  desired  end. 
The  field  marshal  desires  to  conquer,  therefore  he  maneuvers  with 
his  troops;  he  would  not  will  to  do  this,  were  he  not  conscious  of  his 
power  of  command." 


\  94.  DEVELOPMENT  OF  WILL. 

Desire  is  at  first  a  blind  impulse,  without  relation  to  the 
attainability  of  the  object  desired.  It  is  not  even  a  wish,  so 
far  as  this  is  based  upon  a  resignation  of  the  actual  attain- 
ment of  its  object,  and  hence  upon  the  judgment  regarding 
its  attainability. 

Each  of  the  more  intensive  impulses  places  one  in  a  cer- 
tain mental  unrest,  which  manifests  itself  in  a  kind  of  bodily 
activity;  i.  e.,  in  movements.  These  movements  are  orig- 
inally— in  the  undeveloped  child  and  the  animal — out  of  all 
relation  to  the  desired  result;  and,  at  most,  can  be  regarded 
only  as  blind  attempts  to  reach  this  result.  The  infant  gropes 
with  its  hands,  and  the  young  chick  pecks  about  aimlessly. 

By  and  by,  beginning  to  succeed  through  accident,  imi- 
tation, and  the  guidance  of  individual  attempts,  man  and 
animal  learn  to  manage  the  machinery  of  the  body  (compare 
\  35).  They  get  the  experience  that  certain  bodily  move- 
ments lead  to  the  attainment  of  what  is  desired. 

With  the  bodily  movements,  however,  other  and  external 
results  appear,  which,  though  not  immediately  desired,  lead 
by  longer  or  shorter  paths  to  the  attainment  of  the  object  of 
desire.  The  movement  is  here  the  beginning  member  of  a 
series,  at  whose  close  the  desired  result  stands.  If  the  final 
member  of  this  causal  series  is  desired,  all  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  series  arise  to  consciousness  according  to  the  laws 
of  reproduction  (§  32),  and  these  likewise  fall  into  the  state 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  WILL.  241 

of  striving.  They  appear  as  means,  which  are  in  this  state, 
not  for  their  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  end  to  be  reached. 
Thus  the  end  may  elevate,  but  not  sanctify  the  means. 

By  means  of  these  causal  series,  our  experience  is  ever 
widened  concerning  the  serviceability  of  the  movements  of 
the  body,  and  the  adaptability  of  external  things  as  means 
to  the  desired  end.  If,  in  any  specific  case  of  desire,  we 
succeed  in  constructing  such  a  causal  series  from  our  former 
experience,  the  outer  result  is  not  only  desired,  but  expected 
as  soon  as  the  first  member  of  the  causal  series  appears. 
This  expectation  is  expressed  in  the  formula,  "I  will,"  which 
means,  "I  can,  and  I  shall," — if  not  synonymous  with  "It 
will,"  when  the  outer  result  for  a  time  fails  to  appear,  or 
the  judgment  was  erroneous,  or  when  unforeseen  events  are 
able  to  turn  the  series  of  changes  aside  from  the  desired 
consequence. 

Not  only  memory,  but  also  imagination  must  assist  in 
the  construction  of  the  causal  series,  which  sometimes  assumes 
an  exceptional  length.  It  is  not  a  single  series,  but  a  whole 
web  of  series  that  the  imagination  weaves,  and  which  is 
designed  to  lead  from  the  desire  to  its  satisfaction.  The 
paths  through  this  texture,  which  suffer  various  modifi- 
cations in  the  various  stages  of  will  according  to  time  and 
circumstances,  are  plans.  (Plans  of  generals  and  chess  play- 
ers— plans  of  passion.) 

With  this  kind  of  carefully  planned  undertakings  of  the 
will,  it  is  not  only  the  first  member  of  the  causal  series  from 
which  the  will-activity  proceeds,  as  in  one  simple  act  of  the 
will  (death  stroke);  but  the  activity  expands  into  a  series  of 
actions,  with  which  the  corresponding  changes  of  the  external 
world  go  parallel  as  partial  results,  which  finally  lead  to  the 
final  result  (winning  a  game  or  battle — satisfaction  of  a  pas- 
sion). According  as  the  partial  results  occur,  are  modified 
or  do  not  come  to  pass,  the  further  procedure  in  the  plan  of 


242  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

action  must  be  changed.  Here,  above  all,  foresight  and  pres- 
ence of  mind  are  necessary. 

The  partial  results  and  the  means  by  which  the  will- 
activity  pursues  its  course  may,  in  themselves,  be  not  only 
indifferent,  but  even  detested  objects.  We  often  desire  a  cer- 
tain result,  but  detest  the  ways  and  means  which  lead  to  it, 
because,  in  themselves,  they  are  unpleasant  or  offensive. 
Indolence  desires  the  good,  but  does  not  will  it,  on  account 
of  shunning  its  difficulties. 

Such  opposition,  against  which  the  will  strikes,  assumes 
the  character  of  difficulties  and  hindrances,  on  which  the 
power  (energy)  of  the  will  may  be  measured.  The  weak  will 
abandons  its  proposed  ends,  and  lets  the  hands  fall  into  the 
lap,  as  soon  as  its  way  is  crossed  by  opposing  forces;  the  ener- 
getic will  strides  over  all  hindrances  to  its  appointed  goal. 

Thus  in  its  consequences,  which  may  be  turned  aside  by 
opposing  influences,  the  will  shows  itself  to  be  a  true  and 
actual  power,  and  reveals  itself  as  such  in  the  struggle  with 
nature  and  with  the  opposing  effects  of  other  wills. 

Remark. — The  energy  of  will,  which  is  an  object  of  immediate 
moral  approval,  can  only  gradually  be  developed  by  means  of  persist- 
ent actual  will-attempts  and  will-actions  and  presupposes  a  certain 
callousness  of  feeling,  in  contrast  to  the  present  very  common  devia- 
tions on  account  of  feeling,  by  which  all  great  and  difficult  undertak- 
ings are  ruined.  An  Argonautic  expedition,  a  lion  hunt  in  Central 
Africa,  the  ascent  of  the  Gross  Glockner,  a  north  pole  expedition — 
all  these  are  executed,  but  the  preservation  of  untarnished  honor  and 
of  clear  conscience  upon  the  Argonautic  journey  of  human  life  is  a 
task  which  summons  up  the  full  will-power  of  man. 


§  95.  OUTWARD  EFFECT  OF  WILL.     ACTION  AND  DEED. 

It  lies  in  the  nature  of  will  to  act.      An   inactive  will 
would  not  deserve  the  name,  but  would  be  mere  desire. 


OUTWARD  EFFECT  OF  WILL.  243 

Action,  in  a  general  sense,  is  a  movement  of  the  limbs 
as  the  beginning  member  of  a  series  of  changes,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  attaining  what  is  willed.  Deed  is  the  sum  of  those 
voluntarily  produced  changes  of  the  outer  world,  which  pro- 
ceed from  the  action.  The  deed  is,  therefore,  that  result  of 
willing  which  has  become  objective  through  action. 

Will  passes  into  action  and  deed  when  the  ego  produces 
the  beginning  member  of  that  causal  series  which  constitutes 
an  integral  element  of  the  act  of  willing.  This  production 
presupposes  the  mastery  of  the  mind  over  the  movements  of 
the  body;1)  a  mastery  which  with  animals  is  given  by  nature 
in  the  limited,  machine-like  contrivance  of  their  bodies,  but 
which  is  attained  by  man  only  by  means  of  painful  practice 
and  extension,  beginning  with  the  earliest  childhood,  and 
never  concluding. 

Not  only  sense-perceptions  but  muscular  sensations  are 
associated  with  the  movements  of  the  limbs.  With  a  lively 
concept  of  a  movement,  A,  which  is  to  be  executed,  there  is 
reproduced  the  muscular  sensation,  a,  which  is  peculiar  to  it. 
In  so  far  as  the  latter  has  the  requisite  degree  of  strength, 
it  acts  upon  the  motor  nerves  after  the  manner  of  reflex- 
action,  through  an  excitation  proceeding  outward  from  a 
central  organ,  so  that  through  this  action  the  conceived 
movement  is  brought  to  pass  by  means  of  contraction  of  the 
muscles. 


1)  Injury  to  the  body,  weakness  of  the  muscular  system  limits 
the  mastery  of  the  soul  over  the  body,  and  makes  man  partially  or 
wholly  incapabl«rof  action.  The  rigid  tetanus  spasm,  as  a  total  ces- 
sation of  muscular  activity,  makes  every  manifestation  of  will  and 
of  mental  state  impossible.  One  in  this  condition  must  quietly  suffer 
himself  to  be  laid  on  the  bier,  etc.  Yet  it  must  not  be  overlooked 
that  under  certain  very  favorable  circumstances,  the  slightest  move- 
ments suffice  to  give  the  will  an  energetic  expression;  as,  e.  (/.,  the 
wink  of  a  king,  the  gesture  of  a  general,  upon  which  the  life  and 
death  of  thousands  depend.  Very  correctly  does  Horace  express  the 

supreme  power  of  Jupiter  with  the  words:  " imperium  cst 

Jovis,  cuncta  super*cilio  moventis." 


244  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

The  extraordinary  capacity  of  the  body  for  culture  as  an 
all-sided  and  serviceable  instrument  of  the  soul,  depends  upon 
a  successive  accommodation  of  the  bodily  movements  to  the 
desired  result.  Just  as  the  child  learns  the  first  clumsy  use 
of  its  hands,  so  afterwards  it  gradually  learns  the  guidance 
of  the  pen,  the  brush,  the  chisel,  the  bow;  and  just  as  the 
infant  learns  the  first  balancing  exercises  of  standing  and 
walking,  so  afterwards  it  learns  dancing,  rope-walking,  etc. 

The  deed  is  the  sum  of  the  outer  changes  which  the  will 
produces  by  action  in  the  external  world,  yet  only  in  so  far 
as  the  changes  correspond  to  the  expectations  of  the  will. 
The  outer  changes  introduced  by  the  actions,  depend  partly 
upon  the  will  and  the  action,  but  partly  also  upon  the  nature 
of  the  outer  things  with  which  the  action  comes  in  contact. 
Only  in  so  far  as  the  changes  produced  by  this  second  outer 
factor  were  foreseen  do  they  belong  to  the  deed. 

The  deed  is,  therefore,  the  agreement  between  what  is 
willed  and  what  is  accomplished,  between  design  and  result. 
The  deed  reaches  only  Tso  far  as  the  two  coincide.  The  judg- 
ment as  to  how  far  a  given  result  is  a  deed,  is  a  matter  of 
imputation. 

Remark. — The  actual  execution  of  a  conceived  movement,  A,  pre- 
supposes the  reproduction  of  the  associated  muscular  sensation,  a, 
up  to  a  certain  degree  of  intensity.  If  this  muscular  sensation  is 
wholly  wanting  or  only  faintly  reproduced,  the  movement,  A,  although 
conceived,  is  not  executed.  With  sense-perceptions,  as  is  well  known, 
bodily  sensations  can  not,  under  normal  conditions  be  reproduced,  so 
that  the  intensity  of  these  sensations  is  lost  (Comp.  \  34),  and  the 
satisfaction  of  a  desire  resting  upon  the  production  of  a  sense-percep- 
tion, is  not  to  be  thought  of  when  the  perception  is  merely  reproduced. 
The  case  is  otherwise  with  movements;  here  the  real  follows  the  con- 
ceived movement  by  means  of  the  reproduced  muscular  sensations, 
often  involuntarily;  as  the  movements  of  hand  and  foot  in  imitation, 
the  movements  of  the  organs  of  speech  in  thinking  aloud,  etc. 
Through  the  inner  union  of  the  muscular  sensation  with  the  concept 
of  the  motion,  the  certainty  and  rapidity  in  the  execution  of  desired 


INWARD  EFFECT  OF  WILL.  245 

movements  are  brought  about,  together  with  that  finer  shading  which 
we  admire  in  the  virtuoso  of  every  kind  (gymnasts,  musicians,  work- 
men, operators,  and  the  like).  On  account  of  the  enormous  wealth 
of  motions  and  their  gradations,  it  ought  not  to  surprise  us  that  the 
formation  of  the  requisite  associations  costs  time  and  labor,  and  that 
not  seldom  a  failure  to  make  the  right  movement  occurs,  because  of 
the  reproduction  of  the  wrong  muscular  sensations.  When  the  sharp- 
shooter, or  the  billiard-player  aims,  when  the  gymnast  reflects  though 
ready  to  spring,  he  is  seeking  in  memory  for  the  right  muscular  sen- 
sation which  shall  lead  to  the  desired  movement,  and  he  thereby 
manifests  a  lack  of  the  virtuoso's  skill,  The  chirurgical  operator 
must  not  hesitate;  he  must  cut  as  soon  as  he  applies  the  knife.  Only 
by  means  of  continued  practice  do  the  associations  gain  firmness,  the 
motions  certainty. 


5  96.   INWARD  EFFECT  OF  WILL.     FREEDOM  IN  MENTAL 

STATES. 

Outwardly  the  dominion  of  the  will  manifests  itself 
through  interference  with  the  course  of  events,  by  means  of 
actions  and  deeds,  inwardly,  through  interference  with  the 
course  of  representation,  by  means  of  that  mental  activity 
which  we  call  voluntary  attention,  and  direction  of  the  course 
of  thought. 

It  is  well  known  that  one  may  "at  will";  i.  e.,  at  pleas- 
ure, concentrate  his  attention  now  upon  this,  now  upon  that 
object,  can  give  his  thoughts  now  this,  now  that  direction. 
Desire,  volition,  and  satisfaction  here  follow  in  immediate 
succession.  That  which  is  here  desired  is  the  clear  repre- 
sentation of  what  is  now  hovering  in  consciousness  as  mere 
outline.  This  representation  is  willed  when,  according  to 
the  experiences  made  by  inner  sense  activity  regarding  the 
course  of  our  concepts,  the  means  have  been  learned  by 
which  one  can  direct  the  course  of  representation  to  a  given 
point,  or  concentrate  it  in  particular  concepts.  Thus,  the 
desired  mental  state  is  often  found  at  the  close  of  a  known 


240  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

concept  series;  this  can  be  reached  by  running  through  the 
series,  after  calling  the  beginning  member  into  consciousness. 
If,  for  example,  a  narrator  wishes  to  tell  a  story,  he  knows 
that  he  must  first  think  of  its  beginning,  etc. 

According  as  the  concept  mass  to  be  produced  by  the 
will  belongs  to  memory  or  to  imagination,  this  process  will 
belong  to  voluntary  remembrance,  or  voluntary  imagination. 

In  regard  to  thinking,  will  activity  manifests  itself  in 
reflection;  i.  e.,  in  voluntary  direction  of  the  course  of  repre- 
sentation upon  the  object  of  thought. 

The  isolation  of  individual  masses  of  concepts  from  their 
psychical  connections,  and  their  transformation  into  notions 
is  thereby  essentially  promoted. 

Remark  1. — This  section  appears  to  contain  a  difficulty,  because 
one  does  not  at  once  see  how,  alongside  of  the  government  by  the 
laws  of  reproduction,  a  second  dominion,  namely,  that  of  the  will, 
can  interfere  in  the  course  of  associations  and  series.  Yet  the  diffi- 
culty is  resolved  when  one  reflects  that  the  will,  which  directs  the 
course  of  representation,  is  itself  only  a  product  of  the  reciprocal 
actions  of  concepts,  which  are  governed  by  the  laws  of  reproduction, 
and  that  it  is  by  no  means  a  foreign  product.  But  if  these  will  acts 
are  produced  together,  they  cross,  and  concentrate  the  series  of  the 
thought  complex  in  a  manifold  way,  since  by  means  of  insight,  an 
essential  element  of  will,  they  direct  the  series.  The  insight  into  the 
connection  of  concepts,  which  even  with  those  who  are  not  psychol- 
ogists is  gained  by  inner  sense  activity  in  an  empirical  manner, 
reveals  the  means  for  producing  desired  states  of  mind.  It  is  a  well- 
known  fact,  that  one  may  at  will  produce  unusual  feelings  and  states 
of  mind;  as,  e.  g.,  gayety,  gravity,  sadness,  and  even  of  devotion,  by 
an  appropriate  "concentration"  or  "diversion"  of  thought. 

Remark  2. — Thought  in  most  cases  is  mediated  by  action  of  the 
will.  The  fixing  of  notions  is  made  possible  by  voluntarily  turning 
the  attention  away  from  all  the  minor  determinations  pressing  into 
consciousness  upon  all  sides,  and  which  are  more  or  less  accidental  to 
the  desired  state  of  thought.  The  repulsion  of  these  foreign  and 
disturbing  elements  of  consciousness  requires  a  significant  effort  of 
the  will,  and  with  long  continuation  of  thought,  leads  to  that  weari- 


REFLECTION  AND  SELJ-DETERMINATION.  247 

ness  which  one  notices  upon  giving  himself  up  for  a  long  while  to 
concept  masses  which  are  to  be  held  firmly  in  consciousness,  among 
which  are  found  those  pertaining  to  labor.  But  in  labor  the  persist- 
ent concept  mass  is  fixed  by  some  object  of  sense  with  which  one 
busies  himself,  whereas  in  thought,  which  has  to  do  mainly  with 
abstract  notions,  there  would  be  no  such  fixing  through  sense,  did  not 
the  audible  and  visible  signs  of  language  take  the  place  of  other 
sense  objects.  Hence  from  this  side  also  we  arrive  at  the  conclusion 
that  thought  without  speech  could  have  but  a  feeble  existence.  When 
we  here  present  will  as  existing  in  the  sense  of  thought,  we  wish  by 
no  means  to  assert  that  the  creations  of  thought  are  the  products  of 
subjective  will.  No  view  could  be  more  incorrect  than  this.  Will 
merely  prepares  the  ground  of  consciousness  for  the  activity  of 
thought,  in  that  it  can  give  to  the  concepts  meeting  there  those  rela- 
tions which  alone  answer  to  their  objective  quality.  To  try  to  force 
them  into  other  than  these  relations  by  subjective  will,  would  be  as 
vain  as  the  effort  to  see  black  where  there  is  only  white. 


§  07.  REFLECTION  AND  SELF-DETERMINATION. 

If  a  desire  has  assumed  the  dimension  of  a  passion,  it 
silences  all  other  interests  and  considerations  which  lead  men 
in  the  decisions  of  will,  and  presses  with  final  power  towards 
satisfaction. 

Here  all  reflection  relating  to  the  end  is  excluded,  and 
only  that  admitted  which  relates  to  the  serviceability  of  means. 
Self-determination  in  such  a  case  is  not  to  be  thought  of. 

It  is  otherwise  with  desire  which  is  not  passion.  Here 
other  considerations  and  interests  of  the  individual  become 
valid,  which  either  advise  the  execution  of  the  will  or  warn 
against  it,  according  as  they  appear  to  be  furthered  or  hin- 
dered. There  is  placed  before  consciousness  the  alternative 
to  will  or  not  to  will,  that  is,  to  refrain  from  willing.  This  is 
the  first  stage  of  reflection. 

In  most  cases,  however,  there  is  placed  over  against  the 
desire,  a,  which  rests  upon  the  concept  group,  A,  an  oppos- 


248  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

ing  desire,  b,  or  even  a  third,  c,  which  desires  have  their 
seat  in  the  opposing  concept  groups,  B  and  C.  A  struggle 
now  arises  among  the  desires,  similar  to  the  opposing  con- 
cepts which  struggle  for  the  momentary  control  of  conscious- 
ness. This  struggle  of  the  desires  is  extended  to  the  concept 
groups  in  which  they  have  their  seat;  i.  e. ,  to  the  complex  of 
those  interests  which  speak  for  the  various  objects  of  desire. 

This  vacillation  of  the  ego  among  various  will  determi- 
nations in  order  to  unite  itself  to  one  of  them  produces  the 
state  of  reflection.  In  reflection  the  ego  runs  through  in 
thought  the  various  possible  ways  of  willing  which  a  given 
case  offers,  and  vacillates  among  them  just  as  a  subject  con- 
cept vacillates  among  the  various  predicates  offered,  before 
the  formation  of  any  given  judgment.  (Compare  §  49.)  Reflec- 
tion with  thinking  is  called  theoretical;  with  willing,  practical. 

So  long  as  the  motives  which  correspond  to  the  various 
ways  of  willing  hold  an  equipoise,  the  reflection  continues, 
and  no  decision  is  made.  As  soon,  however,  as  any  one  of 
the  possible  will  actions  under  consideration  receives  unex- 
pected reinforcement,  whether  from  without  or  from  within, 
the  concept  series  serviceable  to  this  action  presses  into  con- 
sciousness with  preponderating  power,  and  the  decision  is 
made. 


\  98.  PSYCHOLOGICAL  FREEDOM.!) 

Psychological  or  inner  freedom  is  the  capacity  of  self- 
determination.  The  question  is  not  whether  every  act  of  will 
is  independent  of  every  determining  cause,  but  rather  whether 
the  determining  causes  are  chiefly  within  the  personality,  or 
outside  of  it;  i.  e.,  in  external  conditions  and  causes.  In  the 

1)  Compare  the  author's  work,  "Problems  of  Happiness,"  xvii., 
Freedom,  p.  171,  and  the  following. 


PSYCHOLOGICAL  FREEDOM.  249 

first  case  man  determines  himself,  in  the  latter  he  is  deter- 
mined from  without. 

Man  comes  in  the  course  of  his  mental  life  into  the  great- 
est variety  of  outer  situations,  which  impel  Mm  to  the  most 
various  volitions  and  actions.  Should  only  these  outer  influ- 
ences prevail  (that  is,  should  one  always  howl  with  the  wolves 
or  swim  with  the  stream),  he  would  be  in  no  sense  free, 
because  his  action  would  depend,  not  on  himself,  but  upon 
external  circumstances. 

The  freedom  of  the  will  becomes  more  positive,  the  more 
man  determines  himself  in  accordance  with  inner,  unchange- 
able rules,  and  in  opposition  to  outer  influences,.  These  rules 
are  called  practical  principles,  or  maxims.1) 

A  practical  maxim  is  an  apperceiving  concept  mass  for 
a  given  class  of  volitions.  If  in  several  similar  cases,  where 
the  decision  might  have  been  one  way  or  the  other,  the 
decision  has  been  made  in  the  same  way,  a  practical  rule  of 
volition  and  action  is  formed,  which  is  decisive  for  future 
cases  of  this  kind,  since  it  brings  its  apperceiving  power 
within  the  vacillation  of  reflection.  A  practical  maxim  is 
therefore  nothing  but  a  universal  volition,  whose  power 
increases  with  the  number  of  cases  in  which  it  has  arrived  at' 
action.  The  oftener,  for  instance,  one  has  decided  against 
the  temptation  of  the  instant  to  gain  a  small  advantage  by 
lying,  and  has  told  the  truth,  the  firmer  does  the  maxim  of 
inviolable  truthfulness  become  within  him,  and  the  more 
completely  does  it  determine  his  future  volitions. 


1)  Maxims,  or  principles,  are  distinguished  from  mere  aphorisms 
in  that  they  do  not  contain  mere  theoretical  directions  for  any  sort  of 
will  action,  as,  "be  diligent,"  "be  liberal,"  "do  not  lie,"  but  are  true 
psychological  forces,  which  have  gained  their  preponderance  of 
strength  from  the  fact  that  they  have  been  followed  in  many  like 
cases  of  actual  volition  and  action;  in  other  words,  from  the  fact  that 
one  has  actually  been  diligent  or  liberal,  that  he  has  not  lied,  even 
when  circumstances  tempted  him  thereto. 


250  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark  1. — The  development  of  maxims  is  introduced  by  "prac- 
tical reflection"  (§  97).  He  who  acts  without  any  reflection  acts 
without  freedom,  and  independent  of  principle.  But  he  who  is  accus- 
tomed, not  to  follow  blindly  the  desires  which  press  into  conscious- 
ness, but  to  be  guided  by  reflection  upon  reasons  and  counter  reasons, 
will  soon  come  to  will  and  to  act  in  the  same  way  in  analogous  cases. 
Similar  volition  will  soon  assume  with  him  the  significance  of  a  prac- 
tical maxim,  and  determine  all  subsequent  volitions  of  this  sort. 

In  this  way  a  habit  of  action  is  formed  within  the  man  which 
makes  him  independent  of  the  external  emergencies  of  life;  i.  e.t 
which  makes  him  "psychologically  free." 

Remark  2. — Psychological  freedom  is  to  be  distinguished  from 
the  so-called  absolute  or  transcendental  freedom,  by  which  is  under- 
stood the  capacity  of  establishing  absolutely  the  first  member  in  a 
cha|n  of  causes  and  effects.  We  cannot  admit  that  man  has  this 
freedom;  for  each  act  of  his  will  is  in  no  wise  the  beginning  mem- 
ber in  a  causal  series,  but  rather  itself  a  consequence  of  preceding 
causes;  viz.,  the  motives  according  to  which  he  decides  what  his  voli- 
tion shall  be.  These  motives  are  rooted  and  grounded  in  the  whole 
mental  life.  All  concepts  which  work  together  to  place  any  given 
concept  in  a  condition  of  desire,  and  enable  it  to  prevail  over  oppos- 
ing impulses,  are  involved.  In  order  that  a  concept  pass  into  desire 
and  volition,  it  must  have  been  just  so  often  in  consciousness,  and 
have  entered  into  just  these  combinations  with  other  concepts;  must 
have  been  united  with  just  these  furthering  concepts  and  concept 
series,  these  and  those  sense-perceptions;  it  short,  just  this  and  not 
that  must  have  happened.  Every  individual  act  of  will  is  therefore  a 
product,  of  which  the  events  of  our  whole  mental  life  form  the  deter- 
mining factors;  so  that  man,  with  his  volition,  is  not  only  not  taken 
out  of  his  chain  of  causal  nexus  by  which  all  the  events  of  nature 
are  united,  but  is  rather  most  intimately  united  to  it.  Experience 
completely  confirms  this  observation.  When  we  take  the  trouble  to 
investigate  why  we  have  willed  thus  and  not  otherwise  in  any  given 
case,  we  shall  find  the  motives  to  the  action,  so  far  as  they  can  be 
discovered,  scattered  more  or  less  over  our  whole  psychological  past. 
It  indeed  appears  to  us,  when,  in  a  state  of  reflection,  we  wish  to  run 
through  the  various  possibilities  of  volition,  that  the  matter  rests 
with  us,  and  that  we  might  just  as  well  have  decided  one  way  as 
another;  but  it  is  only  an  appearance,  because  we  do  not  feel  our 
inner  necessity,  and  because  the  self-observation  is  here  directed  only 


PSYCHOLOGICAL  FREEDOM.  251 

upon  the  different  possible  volitions  and  the  ego  vacillating  between 
them,  but  by  no  means  upon  the  psychological  depth  of  secret  effec- 
tive motives,  invisible  to  the  inner  eye,  and  which  press  the  ego,  now 
to  this,  now  to  that  volition,  and  finally  bring  about  the  decision. 
Where  with  an  individual  no  fixed  combinations  of  concepts,  no 
organic  groups  of  concepts,  no  ruling  ideas,  no  guiding  maxims  have 
been  formed,  when,  therefore,  all  individual  concept  groups  help 
with  about  equal  force  to  decide  an  act  of  will,  it  will  require  but 
little  effort  of  another  to  bring  the  decision  to  this  or  that  side. 
Because  now  this  motive,  e.  g.,  an  obscure  remembrance,  something 
which  merely  occurs  to  the  mind,  an  insignificant  perception,  escapes 
self-observation  on  account  of  its  minuteness,  it  looks  as  if  I  decided 
purely  according  to  subjective  will.  This  is,  for  example,  the  case 
with  the  child,  whose  volition  vacillates  between  the  objects  of  his 
choice,  like  the  concepts  which  come  and  go  in  his  consciousness. 
Where,  on  the  contrary,  as  with  the  adult  and  principled  man,  all 
concepts  have  experienced  an  organic  formation,  where  the  single 
exists  only  in  relation  to  the  whole,  where  all  concept  groups  are  lim- 
ited and  clarified,  the  one  against  the  other,  then  it  will  be  easy  to 
discover  why,  in  a  given  case,  he  has  determined  himself  in  one  way 
rather  than  in  another.  But  precisely  here,  with  the  free  man,  it  is 
evident  that  the  volition  is  only  the  consequence  of  other  presuppo- 
sitions; viz.,  the  motives  upon  which  it  is  based.  When,  therefore, 
we  are  not  able  to  see  the  connection  between  a  volition  and  its  con- 
ditioning motives,  we  have  on  this  account  no  ground  for  denying  it. 
But  aside  from  all  this  it  may  be  shown  that  the  idea  of  transcendental 
freedom  is  nonsense.  For  as  soon  as  this  is  admitted,  the  moral  order 
of  the  world  loses  its  immovable  basis.  Every  systematic  influence 
upon  man,  therefore  all  education  is  foolishness,  %>r  it  can  produce 
no  effect  upon  volition,  and  therefore  none  upon  morality.  The  deeds 
of  history  are  but  the  throws  upon  the  dice  board,  for  the  volition 
which  called  them  forth  arose  from  chance,  and  might  just  as  well 
have  been  otherwise.  Any  pragmatic  view  of  history  is  mere  subter- 
fuge. Any  reciprocal  trust  in  the  intercourse  between  men,  the  for- 
mation of  moral  relations  (love,  friendship)  is  impossible,  for  he  who 
to-day  heaps  upon  me  the  proofs  of  his  good  will,  may  to-morrow, 
without  the  slightest  occasion,  persecute  me. with  the  arrows  of  ill- 
will.  The  building  up  of  will  into  character  would,  finally,  be  an 
inconceivable  undertaking. 


252  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

§  99.  REASON. 

In  psychology  we  have  studied  two  kinds  of  reflection: 
the  theoretical  in  the  formation  of  the  judgment,  and  the 
practical  in  self-determination.  In  the  former  the  subject  of 
a  judgment  is  determined  with  respect  to  the  predicate;  in 
the  latter  the  ego  is  determined  with  respect  to  a  volition. 

The  decision,  which  closes  the  state  of  deliberation,  is 
brought  to  pass  by  means  of  certain  controlling,  i.  e. ,  apper- 
ceiving  concept  masses,  which  put  an  end  to  the  vacillation, 
either  of  the  subject  among  several  predicates,  or  of  the  ego 
among  several  proposed  volitions,  since  they  further  the  pre- 
dicate or  volition  corresponding  to  themselves  in  content, 
and  at  the  same  time  suppress  the  opposing  determinations. 
Upon  the  content  of  these  apperceiving  concepts  depends 
our  judgment  of  persons  and  things,  as  well  as  the  direction 
of  our  volition  and  action. 

In  the  realm  of  theoretical  reflection,  notions  are  the 
apperceiving  forces  which  determine  our  judgment.1)  These 
notions  are,  however,  drawn  within  the  circle  of  reflection 
when  one  tries  to  fix  their  reciprocal  relation  by  means  of  a 
new  judgment.  This  is  a  reflection  of  a  higher  kind,  whose 
beginning  is  mediated  by  higher,  more  abstract  notions.  By 
continuous  comparison  of  notions  which  form  the  object  of  our 
theoretical  reflection,  we  reach  the  highest  (theoretical) 
notions,  which  as  the  highest  means  of  thought  are  called  ideas. 
Magnitude  and  number,  matter  and  force,  God  and  nature, 
substance  and  quality,  are  examples  of  such  higher  ideas. 

But  practical  reflection,  or  deliberation,  leads  also  to 
highest  principles,  or  maxims  (2  98),  which  as  soon  as  an- 
nounced assume  the  form  of  fundamental  ideas  concerning 
the  unconditioned  worth  or  worthlessness  of  volitional  acts. 


1)  These  notions  have  themselves  arisen  in  accordance  with  the 
manner  in  which  we  have  previously  willed,  for  each  judgment  is 
made  but  once,  and  is  then  transformed  into  a  notion.  (Compare  \  49.) 


REASON.  253 

These  highest  principles  which  guide  the  decisions  of  will, 
just  as  the  theoretical  ideas  do  the  formation  of  judgments, 
may  be  called  practical  ideas.  Right  and  equity,  good  will 
and  perfection,  are  practical  ideas. 

The  ability  to  form  ideas  is  the  highest  faculty  of  man 
— reason.  Reason  may  be  distinguished  as  theoretical  and 
practical,  according  as  it  acts  in  the  field  of  theoretical  or 
of  practical  reflection. 

Reason  is  distinguished  from  understanding  in  this,  that 
its  rule  is  not  confined  to  one  or  several  fields  of  thought, 
but  that  it  pertains  to  the  whole  of  human  reflection  and 
volition,  upon  which  it  seeks  to  place  the  stamp  of  harmo- 
nious unity.  While  there  are  as  many  varieties  of  under- 
standing as  there  are  connected,  independent  groups  of  con- 
cepts, so  that  it  is  not  irrational  to  speak  of  a  mathematical, 
a  judicial,  a  commercial,  or  a  scientific  understanding,  reason 
in  its  universal  activity  is  the  indivisible  one,  whether  its 
decisions  relate  to  theoretical  reflection  or  to  practical  action. 

Remark  1. — Although  the  germs  of  reason's  activity  show  them- 
selves very  early  in  man,  they  are  first  found  in  a  ripened  state  in  the 
later  years  of  manhood.  The  activity  of  reason  shows  itself  where 
man,  coming  out  of  his  isolated  fields  of  thought,  tries  to  bring  the 
total  of  his  convictions  under  a  single  principle.  This  occurs  usually 
in  the  later  years  of  life.  Until  then  man  allows  himself  to  be  led 
in  his  judgments  and  volitions,  by  the  reason  which  is  about  him,  and 
which  speaks  to  him  in  the  form  of  moral  maxims,  customs,  public 
example,  social  order,  and  above  all  of  religious  worship.  For,  truly, 
the  development  of  reason,  i.  e.,  the  fixing  of  the  inventory  of  our 
theoretical  and  practical  ideas,  is  not  the  task  of  the  individual 
but  of  the  whole  race;  and  one  may  in  general  say,  that  not  only  the 
individual,  but  also  mankind,  becomes  more  rational  the  older  it 
grows. 

Remark  2. — The  sway  of  reason  manifests  itself  in  the  reciprocal 
detcrminablencss  of  the  concepts,  the  one  by  the  other,  in  an  all-sided 
and  correct  estimation  of  the  various  human  interests.  Children  and 
animals,  passionate  and  insane  people  have  no  reason;  the  former, 


254  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

because  they  do  not  arrive  at  the  point  of  comparing  concept  groups 
and  interests  with  one  another;  the  latter,  because  being  confined 
to  one  line  of  thought,  they  do  not  arrive  at  a  correct  estimation  of 
all.  Lack  of  reason  can  be  recognized  as  blindness  and  foolishness, 
since  that  is  highly  estimated  which  is  not  worthy  of  such  estimation. 
Practical  reason  manifests  itself  subjectively  as  conscience,  in  so  far 
as  this  reveals  to  man  what  is  good  and  what  is  bad. 

Remark  3. — Keason  is  sometimes  defined  otherwise,  since  it  is 
represented  as  the  "faculty  of  the  supersensible,"  as  the  "faculty  of 
reasoning"  (with  the  syllogism),  the  "faculty  of  having  a  priori 
knowledge"  and  thereby  distinguished  from  "Understanding,"  which 
is  said  to  have  to  do  with  individual  judgments  and  empirical  knowl- 
edge. These  explanations  do  not  correspond  to  the  common  use  of 
language.  In  order  to  solve  a  mathematical  problem  which  involves 
profound  conclusions,  no  reason  is  needed,  but  only  a  well-schooled 
understanding;  and  the  insane  man,  who  is  robbed  of  his  reason, 
may  very  well  busy  himself  with  the  solution  of  a  quadratic  equation 
or  with  a  game  of  chess.  What,  however,  the  latter  can  not  do,  is 
to  produce  an  orderly  arrangement  in  the  various  mental  affairs  and 
interests,  which  demands  that  the  important  shall  not  be  forgotten  on 
account  of  the  trifling,  and  that  end  shall  not  be  sacrificed  to  means. 
While  the  man  of  understanding  merely  investigates  the  serviceability 
of  means,  the  rational  man  turns  his  attention  to  the  end  itself,  and, 
since  the  end  may  appear  as  a  means  for  a  higher  end,  he  gives 
thought  to  the  last  or  final  end,  which  is  also  called  the  ultimate  pur- 
pose or  destiny  of  an  object.  Reason  may  therefore  not  inappro- 
priately be  defined  as  the  capacity  of  man  to  know  his  own  destiny. 


§  100.  CHARACTER. 

On  account  of  the  practical  maxims  which  arise  from 
rational  reflection,  a  certain  consistency  is  brought  into  the 
volitions  and  actions  of  men,  because  in  their  volition  and 
action  they  decide  similar  cases  in  a  similar  way. 

If  with  any  given  man  different  practical  principles  have 
been  developed,  and  a  concept  mass  enters  consciousness, 
urging  towards  a  particular  volition,  those  practical  princi- 


CHARACTER,  255 

pies  will  be  reproduced,  which  have  any  similarity  to  this 
concept  mass;  i.  e.,  those  which  suffer  an  application  to  the 
present  case.  In  this  way  the  volition  is  so  far  removed  from 
this  mass  of  concepts  that  it  remains  in  unison  with  the 
determining  practical  principle;  that  is,  it  will  govern  itself 
according  to  the  principle,  or  maxim. 

This  is,  however,  only  possible  when  no  contradiction 
exists  among  the  maxims.  Should  this  latter  be  the  case,  we 
have  a  collision.  D  This  cannot  be  removed  except  as  we 
accommodate  our  volition  to  the  principle  which  is  acknowl- 
edged as  the  higher.  The  various  moral  maxims  should  not, 
therefore,  stand  isolated  side  by  side,  but,  for  the  avoidance 
of  collision,  be  arranged  in  a  specific  order,  at  the  top  of 
which  a  highest  moral  principle  must  be  placed.  As  a  final 
resort,  this  highest  principle  must  govern  the  decision  when 
there  is  a  collision  between  volition  and  moral  maxims. 

In  this  way,  all  volitions  and  actions  are  brought  into  that 
harmony  which  constitutes  the  essence  of  character.  We 
may  here  understand,  then,  by  character,  the  consistency  of 
all  willing  and  acting  through  their  subordination  to  practical 
principles,  these  being  in  turn  subordinated  to  one  highest  prin- 
ciple of  morat conduct. 

The  quality  of  character  depends  upon  the  content  of 
the  practical  principles;  if  these  are  throughout  moral,  and 
if  at  their  head  stands  the  decision  to  govern  one's  self  under 
all  circumstances  according  to  the  demands  of  the  moral 
law,  and  in  accordance  with  the  voice  of  conscience,  the 
character  is  then  a  moral  one.  Where  any  other  determining 
power,  as,  e.  g. ,  a  final  end  sought  through  the  volition  of 


1)  Such  collisions  are  not  rare.  The  rescue  of  my  fellow  man 
bids  me  tell  a  lie.  It  is  here  difficult  to  be  true  in  like  degree  to  the 
two  maxims:  "Help your  fellow  man"  and  "Speak  the  truth."  One  must 
govern  himself  according  to  the  higher,  and  avoid  the  lie.  In  the 
same  manner  the  maxims  of  justice  and  those  of  good  will  come  into 
conflict.  Here  the  rule  is,  that  one  should  above  all  avoid  moral  blame. 


256  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

passion,  takes  the  place  of  the  highest  moral  maxim,  of  course 
there  can  be  no  moral  character. 

Only  a  moral  character  is  truly  a  character  at  all,  for  a 
consistency  running  through  the  whole  life  of  man  and  through 
all  his  actions,  can  be  reached  only  under  the  form  of  moral- 
ity, whose  individual  demands  possess  the  greatest  harmony. 
The  immoral  character  finds  itself  in  contradiction  with  the 
eternal  demands  of  morality,  which  can  not  be  dismissed  out 
of  hand,  and  which  when  they  once  become  valid  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  immoral  man,  torment  him  through  remorse 
so  that  he  collapses  within  himself.  (Character  of  the  robber, 
Moor,  according  to  Schiller's  portrayal.) 

Moral  character  is  the  highest  aim  and  most  perfect  form 
of  psychical  development.  It  is  a  work  of  art,  which  man 
must  exhibit  throughout  his  whole  life,  and  in  all  his  volitions 
and  actions,  and  which  he  must  regard  as  his  highest  pur- 
pose. It  is  consequently  an  ideal,  only  approachable  by  man 
in  his  earthly  life.  It  is  much  that  some  of  the  practical 
principles  of  his  spiritual  personality  are  able  to  bear  the 
stamp  of  character. 

Remark  1. — Rationality — morality — freedom — firmness  of  charac- 
ter, are  apprehensions  of  the  same  notion  from  different  sides.  He 
who  acts  rationally  acts  morally;  for  the  content  of  reason  is  the 
demands  of  the  moral  law;  he  is  also  free  in  his  action,  because  he 
determines  himself,  not  in  accordance  with  the  momentary  state  of  his 
consciousness,  which  is  inclined  to  favor  now  this,  now  that  desire, 
but  according  to  the  unchanging  demands  of  his  rational  insight, 
which  forms  the  fixed  center  of  his  ego.  By  thus  freeing  his  volition 
from  all  accidental  vacillations,  he  acts  consistently;  i.  e.,  as  having 
character. 

Remark  2. — The  practical  principles  by  no  means  demand  of  man 
a  particular  volition;  they  leave  him,  rather,  the  greatest  freedom, 
and  demand  only  that  in  the  choice  of  a  volition  arising  from  a  spe- 
cific occasion,  he  shall  not  decide  until  he  has  listened  to  what  the 
moral  maxims  prescribe.  Consistency  of  moral  character  is,  then,  to 
be  distinguished  from  a  monotonous  uniformity  in  action,  for  the 


CHARACTER.  257 

volition  for  which  a  moral  character  in  any  given  case  will  decide, 
depends  not  only  upon  the  nature  of  the  principles  involved,  but  also 
upon  the  nature  of  the  material  to  which  the  principle  is  to  be  applied. 
This  material  consists  in  the  manifoldness  of  situation  in  which  the 
acting  character  finds  itself,  and  over  which  it  is  master  only  to  a 
limited  extent.  As  these  situations  vary,  so  will  also  consistent  voli- 
tion and  action.  This  application  of  ideal  principles  to  empirical 
matter  is  what  gives  to  human  virtue  the  aspect  of  a  work  of  art,  in 
whose  realization  the  special  skill  of  the  individual  exhibits  itself.  It 
does  not  suffice,  therefore,  merely  to  yield  to  moral  principles;  one 
must  also  possess  wisdom  enough  to  be  able  to  decide  how  a  volition 
under  given  circumstances  may  be  subsumed  under  the  total  of  moral 
principles.  There  are  cases  conceivable  in  which  such  a  subsumption 
would  require  especial  skill. 

Remark  3. — As  human  consciousness  manifests  itself  as  sensibility 
in  regard  to  feeling,  so  in  regard  to  volition  it  manifests  itself  as 
moral  intention,  which  is  either  good  or  bad,  since  the  will  is  the  im- 
mediate object  of  moral  judgment.  We  ascribe  morality  to  a  man  in 
whom  the  totality  of  volition  is  of  large  magnitude,  because  in  this 
case  the  individual  acts  of  will  do  not  contradict,  but  further  one 
another;  whereas  we  ascribe  lack  of  morality  to  one  in  whom  the 
totality  of  volition  is  small,  since  one  volition  is  annulled  by  another. 
Character  is,  therefore,  the  expression  for  a  uniform  moral  direction  of 
will,  which  brings  the  individual  volitions  of  a  personality  into  such 
inner  and  reciprocal  harmony  that  their  sum  is  a  maximum.  Every  con- 
tradiction in  volition  gnaws  at  the  root  of  character,  whereas  agree- 
ment and  consistency  strengthen  it.  The  pure  ideal  of  character  and 
moral  activity  is  a  fullness  of  volition  and  action  which,  spread  over  the 
space  of  time  alloted  to  one  being,  stand  toone another  inorganic  unity, 
and  from  which  the  sharp  outlines  of  a  self-realizing  personality  shine 
forth.  The  realization  of  such  an  ideal  is  the  highest  function  of  man. 
The  fulfillment  of  this  function  reveals  itself  subjectively  in  the  sum  of 
those  satisfactions,  which  taken  together  comprise  the  liappincss  of 
man.  While  the  contradiction  between  unbridled  desires  distracts 
the  mind,  and  passion  tends  artificially  to  unite  them  in  eccentric  foci 
of  thought,  character,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  only  true  form  of 
pelf-consistent  consciousness,  the  true  source  of  inner  happiness. 


258  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

\  1O1.  IMPUTATION. 

Imputation  is  a  judgment,  declaring  that  a  particular 
outer  consequence,  as  deed,  has  arisen  from  the  ego  of  some 
particular  person.  The  volition  stands  between  the  conse- 
quence and  the  ego,  as  a  mediating  member;  for  the  effect 
can  be  related  to  the  ego  only  by  means  of  the  will.  Impu- 
tation has,  accordingly,  two  aspects.  The  first,  as  imputa- 
tion in  the  narrow  sense,  ascribes  the  consequence  as  deed  to 
a  particular  volition;  the  second,  as  higher  imputation, 
relates  the  volition  to  the  ego. 

Imputation  in  the  narrow  sense  has  to  decide  to  what 
extent  a  given  consequence  is  a  deed;  i.  e.,  has  proceeded 
from  volition.  The  deed  extends  as  far  as  volition  and  con- 
sequence coincide;  i.  e. ,  as  far  as  the  sum  of  external  changes 
corresponds  to  the  mind's  conception  of  them. 

In  particular  cases,  an  incongruity  may  arise  between 
volition  and  consequence.  Each  plus  upon  the  side  of  will 
which  is  not  covered  by  effect  remains  mere  design,  as,  for 
example,  when  murder  is  intended  but  merely  a  wound  results; 
every  plus  on  the  side  of  consequence  not  covered  by  volition 
remains  mere  event,  as,  for  example,  a  death  stroke  where 
only  wounding  was  intended. 

Although  imputation  of  the  minor  sort  extends  in  gen- 
eral only  so  far  as  result  and  intent  coincide  in  the  deed,  yet 
under  certain  circumstances  the  mere  intent  and  the  mere 
result  may  be  taken  into  consideration,  in  that  the  former 
may  be  inferred  from  outward  circumstances  (attempt  of  a 
criminal),  or  in  how  far  the  latter  ought  to  have  been  re- 
garded in  will;  i.  e.,  should  have  been  foreseen  (transgression 
and  carelessness). 

In  the  same  way,  the  lack  of  consequence  where  there 
was  a  duty,  may  be  imputed.  But  the  imputation  vanishes 
entirely  where  there  was  no  volition,  or  where  the  outer  con- 
sequence together  with  the  volition  stood  outside  of  connec- 


IMPUTATION.  259 

tions  perceivable  by  the  latter,  so  that  according  to  the  com- 
mon nexus  of  things  the  result  could  not  be  ascribed  to 
the  will. 

The  higher  imputation  is  the  assertion  that  some  given 
volition  has  proceeded  out  of  the  ego  of  a  particular  person- 
ality. This  imputation  relates  to  the  decision,  as  to  how  far, 
in  the  moment  of  deed,  the  subject  of  the  volition  was  in  a 
condition  of  psychological  freedom;  i.  e.,  as  to  how  far  he 
was  responsible. 

Judicial  imputation  in  the  court  of  justice  presupposes 
the  responsibility  of  an  individual  so  long  as  he  does  not 
appear  excluded  by  certain  anomalous  conditions,  which  are 
usually  more  or  less  specified  in  the  statutes,  but  rarely 
made  precise.  Among  these  anomalous  conditions  are  such 
as  the  various  forms  of  mental  disease,  sleep  or  states  aris- 
ing therefrom,  and  temporary  insanity.1) 

This  judicial  imputation,  further,  makes  only  two  dis- 
tinctions with  regard  to  responsibility,  according  as  psy- 
chological freedom,  and  with  it  responsibility,  is  present  or 
not.  2)  Only  in  the  form  of  so-called  '  <  alleviating  circum- 
stances" have  the  legal  statutes  regarded  the  degree  of 
responsibility  in  the  adjustment  of  punishments. 


1)  J.  B.  Frederick  in  his  "System  of  Judicial  Psychology,"  chap. 
III.,  §  2,  ("System  der  Gerichtlichen  Psychologic.")  protests  against  the 
specializing  of  anomalous  mental  states  altering  responsibility  in  law 
statutes,  "because  specialists  are  not  agreed  as  to  the  naming,  denn- 
ing, and  classifying  of  psychical  diseases,  and  because,  on  the  one 
side,  the  scheme  of  psychical  anomalies  for  forensic  purposes  is  much 
greater  than  that  of  mental  diseases;  and,  on  the  other  side,  because 
the  stability  of  once  enacted  laws  is  opposed  to  the  rapid  progress  of 
psychology  in  the  field  of  science  and  experience"  (p.  75).     Instead 
of  this  the  statutes  ought  to  contain  the  general  statement:  Every 
individual  who  at  the  time  of  the  deed  was  not  in  a  free  mental  con- 
dition is  not  responsible  (p.  83). 

2)  Friereich  says:  "There  are  no  degrees  of  imputation,  because 
there  are  no  degrees  of  rational  freedom  of  volition  upon  which  it  is 
based.  There  is  no  middle  thing  between  psychical  freedom  and  lack 
of  freedom"  (p.  122). 


260  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Moral  imputation,  on  the  contrary,  distinguishes  differ- 
ent degrees  of  responsibility,  which  answer  to  the  different 
degrees  of  perfection  with  which  the  apperception  of  will, 
from  the  side  of  the  more  or  less  wakeful  ego  concept,  acts. 
It  distinguishes  hasty  deeds  from  those  of  deliberation,  it 
separates  moral  confusion  from  deliberate  wickedness,  and 
investigates  closely  the  connection  in  which  the  individual 
volition  stands  to  the  norm  of  will;  i.  e.,  to  character. 

Remark. — Without  presupposing  mental  disease,  there  may  be 
situations  where  the  psychological  freedom,  and  with  it  responsibility, 
if  not  excluded,  is  reduced  to  a  minimum.  Volition  may  have  its 
source  either  in  a  momentary  state  of  consciousness,  of  which  one  is 
perhaps  not  master,  or  in  a  single  principle,  or  in  the  whole  charac- 
ter. In  sudden  passion  a  man  is  "beside  himself";  an  apperception 
by  the  suppressed  ego  concept  is  out  of  the  question.  Many  volitions 
and  actions  "surprise"  one  so  that  soon  after  the  deed,  when  he  has 
come  to  himself,  he  would  regretfully  undo  his  deed,  if  he  could. 
Lack  of  regard  to  the  degree  of  responsibility  may  be  characterized 
as  a  chief  fault  of  the  present  customary  infliction  of  punishment. 


APPENDIX. 


MENTAL  DISEASES. 
2  103.  THE  DREAM  AS  A  PROTOTYPE  OF  MENTAL  DISEASE. 

Mental  diseases  have  about  them  something  wonderful 
and  inexplicable  only  so  long  as  they,  with  their  manifesta- 
tions, stand  out  of  all  analogy  with  normal  soul  life.  One 
may  convince  himself  by  closer  investigation,  however,  that 
the  beginnings  of  mental  disturbance  are  largely  to  be  sought 
among  mental  states  held  to  be  healthy,  and  that  real  mental 
diseases  show  in  remarkable  degree  what  we,  in  daily  life, 
have  occasion  to  observe  in  ourselves  and  in  others. 

It  is  in  particular  the  condition  of  sleep  (3  12)  which 
shows  us  temporary  phenomena  similar  to  those  we  find  to 
be  permanent  in  mental  diseases.  *>  In  sleep  it  is  a  single, 
extraordinarily  strong  concept  mass,  standing  out  of  connec- 
tion with  the  concepts  of  the  waking  state,  that,  by  means 
of  strength  and  opposition  to  the  ruling  concepts  of  the  day 
brings  about  a  more  or  less  complete  obscuration  of  our  con- 
sciousness. This  concept  mass  is  the  resultant  of  the  body 
sensations,  which,  corresponding  to  the  tired  condition  of 
muscles  and  nerves,  bring  about  and  accompany  sleep.  Like 
a  mechanical  force,  these  concepts,  acting  as  a  mass  alone, 
without  significance,  and  without  organic  connection,  clear 

1)  We  should  soon  come  upon  the  track  of  consciousness  and  of 
insanity,  could  we  know  what  sleep,  what  waking  is.  Reil's  Rhap- 
sodies, p.  87. 


262  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

the  significant  phenomena  of  waking  life  from  the  theater  of 
consciousness.  This  great  concept  mass,  which  appears  as 
an  aberration  of  the  vital  sensation,  may  be  called  the  sleep- 
sensation.  (Compare  2  30,  Remark  2.) 

The  arrest  of  concepts  through  the  sleep-sensation  is 
either  complete  or  incomplete.  The  first  occurs  in  deep  sleep, 
the  latter  during  the  state  of  half  sleep,  when  the  concepts 
appear  in  consciousness  as  dreams. 

The  concepts  of  dreams  are  usually  distinguished  on 
account  of  their  peculiar  intensity,  because  they  do  not  suffer 
the  arrest  which,  during  the  working  state,  arises  from  the 
senses  and  from  reproduction;  for  the  senses  are  locked  in 
sleep,  and  reproduction  is  hindered  by  somatic  pressure. 
Hence,  on  account  of  their  liveliness,  concepts  appearing  in 
sleep  assume  the  character  of  immediate  impressions  of  sense, 
and  are  mistaken  for  perceptions. 

In  the  state  of  sleep,  the  free  association  of  concepts, 
and  consequently  their  reciprocal  determinableness,  is  hin- 
dered on  account  of  the  physiological  pressure  of  sleep-sen- 
sations. Certain  ruling  concepts  of  the  waking  state  do  not 
appear;  as  when,  for  example,  we  wander  in  dreams  upon 
the  surface  of  the  water,  without  being  reminded  that  water 
yields  to  the  weight  of  solid  bodies;  or  when  we  converse 
with  persons  long  since  dead,  because  we  have  forgotten  the 
fact  of  their  departure  from  life. 

The  confusion  of  reproduced  concepts  with  immediate 
sense-perceptions  (hallucinations)  destroys  the  validity  of  sen- 
sations, and  the  absence  of  the  right  thought  at  the  right 
time  is  the  surest  characteristic  of  defective  reflection.  He 
who  in  a  waking  state  thinks  he  "perceives"  things  which 
are  not  present,  or  who  by  the  absence  of  the  most  common 
determining  thoughts  should,  e.  g.,  try  to  walk  upon  the 
water,  or  to  converse  with  the  dead,  would  certainly  be 
regarded  as  a  sufferer  from  mental  disease. 


MENTAL  DISEASE.  263 

Dreamlife  is  further  a  prototype  of  a  diseased  mental 
state,  because  here  also  the  unity  of  consciousness  is  destroyed. 
It  is  known,  for  instance,  that  the  dream  does  not  regard 
space  and  time,  and  that  it  thereby  perpetrates  the  greatest 
absurdities,  bringing  persons  and  things  together  from  dif- 
ferent places  and  times.  Nor  does  the  dreamer  remain  with 
one  object  of  thought,  but  like  the  insane  man  springs  from 
one  thing  to  another. 

The  highest  unity  of  consciousness  is  the  one  and  indi- 
visible ego,  which  amid  all  changes  is  still  identical  with  itself. 
This  unity  of  self-consciousness  is  broken  in  sleep.  As  the 
dramatic  poet  apportions  the  various  roles  among  the  dram- 
atis personce,  but  is  conscious  of  his  activities  through  the 
ever  recurring  thought,  "It  is  I  who  write,"  so  in  dreams- 
our  ego  divides  into  various  personalities1),  and  experiences 
the  strangest  alienations  on  account  of  the  suppression  of 
our  true  self-consciousness  (the  historical  ego),  so  that  we 
not  seldom  act  in  dreams  in  accordance  with  principles  which 
in  a  waking  state  we  should  reject  with  the  greatest  indig- 
nation. 

In  sleep  we  are  in  precisely  the  condition  of  insanity,  in 
that  we  are  unable  to  accomplish  that  which  we  desire  and 
strive  for. 

In  dreams  memory  and  j  udgment  appear  suppressed  and 
disturbed,  and  with  them  also  reason  and  self-consciousness. 
This  is  on  account  of  the  psychological  pressure,  and  the 
one-sided  and  accidental  arrest  of  concepts  which  follows 
from  it. 


1)  The  divisions  of  the  ego  are  often  very  strange — as  when 
Johnson  found  himself  engaged  in  a  contest  of  wit,  and  was  excelled 
by  his  opponent;  or  when  a  Herr  von  Go'ns  dreamed  himself  back  in 
school,  and  heard  his  schoolmates  answer  questions  which  he  himself 
could  not  answer.  And  to  whom  has  it  not  occurred,  that  he  has  in 
dreams  surpassed  himself? 


264  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

I  103.  PSYCHICAL  DISTURBANCES  WITHIN  HEALTHY 
MENTAL  LIFE. 

The  waking  mental  state  of  man  presents  many  phenom- 
ena of  psychical  disturbance,  which,  on  account  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  humanity  and  of  reciprocal  connivance,  we  do  not 
reckon  as  true  mental  diseases,  because  they  do  not  so  per- 
manently and  radically  alter  the  equipoise  of  spiritual  life 
that  an  understanding  of  the  present  condition  is  excluded, 
and  that  it  is  impossible  to  bring  the  mind  to  a  realization  of 
its  erratic  ideas  through  proper  means.  These  phenomena 
may  be  reduced  to  the  following  types: 

1.  Excessive  limitation  of  the  range  of  thought.     Tem- 
porarily this  assumes  the  appearance  of  absorption  in  a  fixed 
concept  mass,  which  is  investigated  in  all  its  relations,  every 
thing  foreign  being  rigorously  repelled.     Here  belongs  the 
mental  state  of  the  victim  of  melancholy,  who  stubbornly 
resists  all  consolation  and  all  recreation  in  order  to  pursue 
his  dreary  thoughts,  for  the  most   part  imaginations — but 
also  the  absorption  of  the  thinker,  who,  observing  nothing 
about  him,  shuts  himself  up  in  his  world  of  abstract  notions. 
This  narrowing  of  consciousness  may  also  become  habitual 
when  change  in  lines  of  thought  is  excluded,  and  the  man 
remains  in  a  monotonous  mental  state.     The  rule  of  passion, 
exclusive  education,  undifferentiated  occupation,  narrow  lim- 
itation in  external  environment,  society,  calling,  and  habit, 
not  seldom  lead  to  such  a  limitation  and  narrowing  of  the 
mental  horizon.     With  this  is  connected, 

2.  The  extraordinary  prolongation  of  the  course  of  rep- 
resentation, which  manifests  itself  as  slowness  of  apprehen- 
sion, as  feebleness  of  natural  capacity,  and  in  a  higher  degree 
as  feeble-mindedness,  with  which  the  readiness  of  the  genial 
mind  with  its  witty  remarks  and  happy  apprehension  is  in 
pleasing  contrast.     The  slow,  heavy  mind  (tardum  ingenium) 
is  not  able  to  follow  the  flight  of  events  or  the  sinuosities  of 


PSYCHICAL  DISTURBANCES.  265 

an  address,  but  limps  behind  with  questions  after  others  have 
long  since  understood.  D     In  contrast  to  this  stands, 

3.  Excessive  scattering  of  thought  without  concentration, 
as  an   aimless   vacillation   between   excitations   presenting 
themselves  from  opposite  directions.     Here  are  lacking  the 
necessary   apperceiving    concept    masses  which    effect    the 
concentration  and  direction  of  the  course  of  representation. 
' '  Irrational  education  in  periods  of  development,  which  gives 
the  mental  powers  their  direction;  suspended  studies;   fre- 
quent change  from  one  calling  to  another;  social  conditions 
teaching  a  multitude  of  contradictory  human  interests  and 
views,  and  finally  along  with  this  the  causing  of  nomadic 
mental   habits;    the   unstable   external   lingering,   with   its 
chaotic  variety  of  impressions, — all  these  are  causes  which 
lead  to  the  diffusion  or  scattering  of  mental  life"  (Lotze). 
If  to  the  ungoverned  multiplicity  of  concepts  and  endeavors 
the  idea  of  strength  or  intensity   is  added,  we  have, 

4.  Violence  of  mental  movements  as  a  consequence  of  a 
rapid,    strong,    and  uncontrolled  course  of  representation. 
At  first  this  violence  breaks  out  in  momentary  passion,  but 
it  becomes  gradually  fixed  as  a  disposition  to  passion  and 
excessive  excitability. 

The  man  imprisoned  in  a  narrow  field  of  thought,  or 
inaccessible  to  teaching  from  without,  the  passionate,  the 
melancholy,  the  delver  after  subtilities,  the  feeble  minded  and 
lazy,  the  man  afflicted  with  mental  dissipation  or  violent  emo- 
tion— all  are  far  removed  from  the  picture  of  mental  health; 
nevertheless,  it  occurs  to  no  one  to  declare  them  ready  for 
the  madhouse.  And  yet  it  requires  but  a  step  to  transform 

1)  "There  are  feeble  minded  who  deport  themselves  rationally, 
observing  all  proper  forms,  even  of  the  most  cultured  manner  of  life. 
And  yet  it  is  only  the  outer  shell  of  man  that  has  been  preserved, 
while  the  mental  kernel  has  long  since  disappeared,  or  perhaps  never 
was  present.  The  inner  hollowness  is  revealed  by  empty  phrases  and 
manners,  which  remain  as  the  results  of  lifelong  habits"  Ricker, 
Mental  Diseases  (Seelenstorungen),  p.  78. 


266  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

the  four  given  types  of  mental  disturbance  into  the  four  chief 
types  of  mental  disease;  viz.,  melancholia,  imbecility,  de- 
mentia, or  the  state  of  the  fool,  and  mania.  This  step  is  taken 
as  soon  as,  in  consequence  of  the  reciprocal  interaction  be- 
tween body  and  mind,  this  disturbance  has  become  fixed  in 
the  altered  functional  capacity  of  the  nervous  system. 


I  104.  THE  RISE  OF  MENTAL  DISEASES. 

We  reckon  all  those  permanent  anomalies  of  mental  life 
in  the  class  of  real  mental  diseases  in  which  the  reciprocal 
determinableness  of  concepts  is  disturbed  to  considerable 
degree,  so  that  the  man  is  thereby  rendered  incapable  in  the 
ordinary  affairs  of  common  life. 

The  mind  cannot  in  itself  become  diseased,  because  the 
reciprocal  determinableness  of  concepts  cannot  be  destroyed 
in  purely  psychological  ways.  However  much  the  equipoise 
of  concepts  may  be  disturbed  by  violent  mental  agitations, 
it  may  be  restored  in  accordance  with  psychological  laws; 
however  great  the  errors  and  illusions  in  which  man  may  for 
the  moment  find  himself,  the  psychological  way  is  always 
open  for  their  correction. 

The  basis  of  our  self-consciousness  is  the  concept  of  our 
own  body,  which  in  turn  rests  upon  the  broad  basis  of  the 
general  body  sensations  (?  58).  All  concepts  entering  con- 
sciousness there  meet  the  vital  sensation  and  fuse  with  it. 
Deep-seated  disturbances  of  the  nervous  system,  proceeding 
from  physical  ills,  must,  as  a  consequence,  also  bring  about 
a  transformation  of  the  vital  sensation  (3  18),  which  may 
become  very  dangerous  for  the  continuity  of  mental  life.  For, 
the  vital  sensation  altered  through  sickness  forms  a  new  and 
very  powerful  concept  mass,  which  forms  a  sharp  contrast  to 
the  content  of  the  former  mental  life,  and  instead  of  form- 


RISE  OF  MENTAL  DISEASES.  267 

ing  a  basis  for  it,  threatens  partially  to  obscure  it,  after  the 
analogy  of  the  sleep  sensation.  The  self-consciousness  is 
divided,  because  the  concepts  connect  themselves  partly  to 
the  normal  (historical),  partly  to  abnormal  vital  sensation. 
The  two  ego  concepts  alternate  with  one  another  as  in  sleep 
and  waking,  and  struggle  for  supremacy,  until,  with  increas- 
ing mental  disturbance,  the  new,  abnormal  ego  succeeds  in 
releasing  itself  entirely  from  the  past,  displacing  entirely 
the  historical  ego,  so  that  the  latter  becomes  a  mere  "he." 
This  is  possible  only  as  the  somatic  foundation  of  the  latter, 
namely,  the  normal  life  sensation,  is  obscured  by  the  advanc- 
ing bodily  disturbance,  and  its  corresponding  body  sensations, 
just  as  in  sleep  the  vital  sensation  is  obscured  by  the  sleep 
sensation.  There  is  then  formed  the  concept  of  an  imaginary 
body  which  reveals  itself  in  hallucinations  of  the  vital  sen- 
sation, as  a  crippling  of  the  various  parts  of  the  body,  or  a 
shortening  or  lengthening  or  doubling  of  the  same;  as  in- 
crease or  decrease  of  bodily  weight;  as  an  exchange  in  sex 
or  age;  as  transformation  of  the  body  into  glass,  wood,  but- 
ter, etc. 

To  the  concept  of  an  imaginary  body  there  is  soon  added 
the  concept  of  an  imaginary  world,  which  manifests  itself 
through  hallucinations  of  the  various  senses.  Since  the  pres- 
sure of  the  alienated  vital  sensation,  like  the  sleep  sensation 
in  dreams,  affects  the  concept  groups  in  unequal  measure,  it 
destroys  memory  and  the  action  of  the  understanding  in  cer- 
tain directions,  whereas  it  allows  them  to  proceed  in  others; 
or  it  may,  as  in  clairvoyance,  unduly  intensify  them.  Because 
in  arrested  reproduction  and  apperception  individual  members 
of  concept  masses  and  series  drop  out,  the  concept  struc- 
tures lose  that  logical  character  which  they  manifest  in  wak- 
ing and  healthy  soul  life,  and  take  on  the  aspect  of  the  dis- 
torted^nd  '  'deranged. "  This  at  least  in  general;  in  particular, 
exceptional  cases  may  arise  where  this  logical  character 


368  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

remains,  so  that  the  insane  man  often  passes  a  sharp  judg- 
ment in  individual  things,  and  fools  often  speak  the  truth.  D 

Remark  1. — According  to  what  has  been  said,  mental  diseases 
have  their  source  in  the  body.  This  view  is  supported  by  the  fact  that 
they  are  caused  by  direct  injury  to  the  brain,  and  by  diseases  of  the 
nervous  system,  as  well  as  by  the  fact  of  hereditary  disposition  to 
them.2)  The  fact,  also,  that  mental  diseases  may  be  occasioned  by 
psychical  states,  does  not  disagree  with  the  foregoing.  The  violent 
emotions  show  us  how  deeply  even  transient  mental  states  may  affect 
the  nervous  system,  and  what  intensifying  they  experience  from  the 
altered  state  of  the  nerves.  If  the  emotion  is  repeated,  the  tempo- 
rary disturbance  of  the  nerve  activity  may  become  permanent,  and 
on  its  own  account  bring  about  lasting  mental  disturbances.  In  this 
respect,  mental  disturbances  may  be  regarded  as  violent  emotions 
grown  permanent. 

Where  the  physical  disposition  to  insanity  is  already  present,  or 
where  it  is  implanted  by  means  of  sickness,  unnatural  habits,  drunk- 
enness, or  other  excesses,  purely  psychological  influence,  as  unex- 
pected calamities,  passions,  etc.,  may  easily  lead  to  mental  disease; 
but  where  this  disposition  is  wanting,  the  most  violent  mental  dis- 
turbances and  the  severest  blows  of  fate  are  not  able  to  endanger  the 
health  of  the  mental  life. 

From  this  it  follows  as  a  matter  of  course  that  it  is  impossible  to 
cure  the  insane  by  purely  psychical  methods.  "I  understand  you 
very  well,"  said  a  young  victim  of  melancholia,  to  the  celebrated  phy- 
sician, Esquirol,  "I  understand  your  conclusions.  If  I  were  con- 
vinced of  them,  I  should  be  cured."  Only  from  a  physical  strength- 
ening with  appropriate  soothing  of  the  nervous  system,  accompanied 
by  a  corresponding  mental  treatment,  can  the  curing  of  mental  dis- 
eases be  expected. 

Remark  2. — In  common  life  mental  disturbances  are  more  ascribed 
to  easily  perceived  psychical  occasions  than  to  the  more  hidden  phys- 


1)  The  fool  is  free  from  those  considerations  which  give  the  judi- 
cious pause;   he  blurts  out  the  truth,  where  the  wise  man  dares  only 
think;   hence  in  earlier  times  the  custom  of  keeping  for  this  pur- 
pose artificial  fools,  called  "court  fools." 

2)  Of  425  cases  of  mental  diseases  which  the  practical  specialist, 
Ricker,  observed,  144,  or  more  than  one-third  of  all  the  cases,  were 
traceable  to  decided  mental  disturbances  in  the  nearest  relatTves  of 
the  persons  afflicted. 


CHIEF  FORMS  OF  MENTAL  DISEASE.  269 

ical  ills  lying  at  their  basis.  Thus,  we  see  insanity  proceeding  from 
temporary  and  permanent  passions,  from  anxiety  and  trouble,  from 
love  and  homesickness,  from  political  and  religious  fanaticism;  we 
may  in  great  cities,  even  see  insanity  become  epidemic.  However 
true  it  may  be  that  the  beginning  point  of  insanity  is  to  be  sought 
in  the  exigencies  of  mental  life,  its  true  cause  always  lies  in  the  body. 
The  mental  elasticity  is  so  great  that  even  the  most  violent  storm 
that  could  rage  through  it  must  still  itself  again,  did  it  not  call  forth 
changes  In  the  bodily  substrate,  whose  return  to  a  normal  state  of 
functional  activity  is  less  easily  accomplished,  thereby  bringing  about 
more  or  less  permanent  mental  disturbances. 

Remark  3. — The  physical  changes  which  produce  the  abnormal 
somatic  pressure  and  with  it  real  mental  disease,  exercise  an  impor- 
tant influence  upon  the  soul,  even  in  normal  mental  life.  "Conditions 
of  indefinable  anxiety  and  oppression  often  master  the  soul,  even 
when  the  general  conditions  of  life  appear  perfectly  satisfactory; 
they  increase  to  painful  restlessness,  which  can  find  relief  in  no  line 
of  thought,  in  no  occupation;  even  the  smallest  impression  oppresses 
the  soul  with  a  weight  out  of  proportion  to  its  importance cer- 
tain concepts,  once  called  forth,  cling  to  consciousness  with  unwonted 
tenacity,  so  that  wherever  we  turn  remembrance  brings  them  back  to 
us.  In  other  cases  an  apathy  of  mind  arises;  indifference  overcomes 
us,  so  that  every  earnest  thing,  all  worthy  purposes  appear  to  fail, 
and  all  ethical  standpoints  seem  to  have  only  a  relative  validity  along- 
side of  others"  (Lotze). 


\  105.  THE  CHIEF  FORMS  OF  MENTAL  DISEASE. 

The  bodily  disturbance,  in  which  every  mental  disease 
has  its  root,  may  be  regarded  as  the  degeneration  of  one  of 
the  four  chief  kinds  of  temperament.  Four  chief  forms  of 
mental  disease  may  therefore  be  distinguished;  of  which  mel- 
ancholia corresponds  to  the  melancholy;  imbecility,  or  stu- 
pidity to  the  phlegmatic;  idiocy  or  dementia  (as  the  mental 
state  of  the  fool)  to  the  sanguine;  and  madness  or  mania 
to  the  choleric  temperament. 


270  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

In  melancholia  the  somatic  pressure  rests  upon  the  whole 
consciousness,  with  the  exception  of  a  single  circle  of  con- 
cepts, which  on  this  account  appear  with  so  much  the  more 
vigor.1'  The  main  thought  of  this  concept  circle,  which  dom- 
inates the  whole  mental  life,  is  an  illusory  concept,  which  is 
called  a  fixed  idea.  In  that  the  fixed  idea  yields  to  no  oppos- 
ing concepts,  not  even  to  those  whose  correctness  would  be 
at  once  recognized  by  any  sane  mind,  the  character  of  the 
insanity  is  discovered.  The  historical  ego  is  suppressed  as 
in  dream,  and  a  new  one  whose  middle  point  is  the  illusory 
concept  rules  the  consciousness. 

When  the  madhouse  with  all  its  inmates  can  not  bring 
one  who  holds  himself  to  be  a  king  to  a  knowledge  of  his 
insanity,  we  have  proof  in  this  fact  that  the  historical  ego 
has  been  suppressed,  and  the  determinableness  of  concepts 
resolved.  This  form  of  insanity  has  lucid  intervals;  i.  e., 
rational  moments,  during  which  the  illusory  idea  is  beneath 
the  threshold,  and  the  course  of  thought  normal.  By  and 
by,  however,  the  patient  places  his  fixed  idea  in  more  or  less 
absurd  connections  with  all  his  concepts,  and  the  lucid  inter- 
vals grow  rarer.  The  insane  notion  has  become  permanent 
in  consciousness.  The  melancholy  temperament,  ruling  pas- 
sions, all  that  favors  too  great  and  too  permanent  narrowing 
of  consciousness,  furthers  the  disposition  to  this  form  of  in- 
sanity. 

Imbecility,  or  stupidity,  which  may  be  regarded  as  an 
exaggeration  of  the  phlegmatic  temperament,  is  the  retar- 
dation of  the  mental  life  until  it  is  sunk  into  a  stagnating 
stand-still.  Imbecility,  often  inborn,  often  the  final  result 


1)  The  somatic  pressure  (Compare  \  102),  i.  e.,  the  complex  of 
body  sensations  brought  about  by  the  abnormal  physical  state  forms 
with  the  ruling  concept  masses  of  clear  consciousness  a  purely  acci- 
dental association,  and  the  alliance  of  these  t\vo  powers  is  so  strong 
that  they  force  even  the  historical  ego  of  the  man  beneath  the 
threshold. 


CHIEF  FORMS  OF  MENTAL  DISEASE.  2V 

of  preceding  forms  of  sickness,  has  countless  grades,  being 
on  the  one  side  merely  feeble-mindedness,  and  ending  on  the 
other  in  a  complete  quenching  of  all  spiritual  alertness.  In 
a  few  mountain  regions  which  are  characterized  by  narrow 
and  deep  valleys,  want  of  sunshine  and  circulation  of  air,  as 
well  as  by  the  peculiar  character  of  ground  and  water,  imbe- 
cility in  connection  with  bodily  disfigurement  appears  endem- 
ically  as  cretinism. 

The  mental  state  of  the  fool  may  be  regarded  as  the 
degeneration  of  the  sanguinary  temperament;  it  has  no  rul- 
ing concepts  and  no  lucid  intervals.  The  mental  life  presents 
the  picture  of  complete  distraction,  thought  being  held 
together  by  no  logical  or  psychological  bands.  The  concepts 
of  the  fool  leap  from  one  object  to  another,  without  rule  or 
logical  order.  *)  Though  in  the  first  form  of  mental  disease 
mentioned,  the  psychical  disturbance  proceeded  from  a  single 
middle  point,  the  fixed  idea,  it  is  spread  over  all  concepts 
with  the  fool,  and  manifests  a  widely  extended  mental  illness 
difficult  to  cure. 

In  madness,  or  mania,  which  may  be  regarded  as  the 
degeneration  of  the  choleric  temperament,  we  find  the  con- 
cept life  of  the  man  at  the  height  of  a  permanent  passion,  or 
violent  emotion,  which  manifests  itself  as  a  wild  impulse  to 
bodily  actions  without  end  or  aim.  This  impulse  by  no  means 
has  its  seat  in  a  fixed  concept  series  but  in  an  organic  excita- 
bility of  the  highest  degree;  the  actions  of  the  maniac,  which 
break  out  without  any  reflection  and  even  against  the  will, 


1)  The  physician,  Ricker,  gives  a  sample  of  the  course  of  thought 
of  an  educated  insane  patient,  who  was  accustomed  to  record  his  con- 
fused thought  upon  paper.  We  find  therein,  " there,  where  love 

and  fidelity  meet,  and  love  and  fidelity  kiss  each  other;  there,  where 
noble,  good  men  live,  it  is  good.  And  where  human  nature  is,  follows 
benevolence  to  the  powerful,  creator's  privilege,  everlasting  youth- 
ful existence,  never  failing  exaltation,  whose  pure  maiden,  feminine 
in  truth,  power  and  clearness,  pure  women,  and  the  powerful  creator's 
blessing,  do  good,"  etc. 


272  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

and  which  may  be  turned  against  even  beloved  persons,  has 
no  other  purpose  than  to  give  relief  to  this  excitability,  just 
as  man  in  the  midst  of  intense  bodily  pain  performs  all  sorts 
of  contortions,  or  as  an  angry  man  throws  chairs  about  or 
smashes  glasses.  Because  this  form  of  sickness  appears  with 
a  certain  inviolability  of  understanding — the  patients,  when 
attacks  are  approaching,  warn  their  friends  not  to  come  near 
them,  and  often  have  themselves  locked  up — it  has  been 
called  "  mania  sine  delirio,"  and  as  such  has  led  to  much 
controversy  as  to  the  responsibility  of  the  patient;  such  con- 
troversies, however,  may  be  easily  decided  when  one  regards 
the  undoubted  bodily  origin  of  all  mental  diseases. 

The  given  classification  is  not  one  of  the  mentally  dis- 
eased, but  of  mental  diseases.  Thus,  a  mental  illness  may 
begin  with  melancholia,  increase  to  madness,  and  end  with 
imbecility. 

Remark  1. — Still  stranger  than  the  mania  sine  delirio  are  those 
partial  mental  diseases  which  bear  the  name,  monomania,  and  which 
consist  in  the  most  irresistible  impulses  to  actions  of  a  particular 
sort,  though  with  otherwise  perfect  mental  health.  Of  the  various 
kinds  of  monomania,  whose  study  is  of  special  importance  for  the 
application  of  punishment,  the  commonest  are  the  mania  for  stealing, 
for  killing,  and  for  burning.  Cases  are  known  where  persons  of  edu- 
cation and  high  social  standing  are,  without  any  kind  of  outer  need, 
subordinated  to  the  impulse  to  steal,  from  which  influence  they  can  in 
no  way  withdraw  themselves.  In  the  same  manner  the  impulse  to 
kill  arises  and  grows.  In  the  years  of  development  of  both  sexes, 
the  impulse  to  burn  is  not  seldom  active.  It  rests  upon  a  peculiar  love 
of  fire  and  under  some  circumstances  leads  to  actual  arson. 

Remark  2. — Now  that  the  chief  forms  of  mental  disease  have 
been  fixed,  the  otherwise  vague  notion  of  mental  soundness  may  be 
more  exactly  defined.  It  becomes,  accordingly,  a  condition  which  is 
the  exact  opposite  of  the  four  main  forms  of  mental  disease.  It  is 
characterized,  therefore,  in  contrast  to  melancholia,  by  the  rational 
equipoise  of  concepts  according  to  their  true  value — in  contrast  to 
imbecility,  by  a  proper  rhythm  of  mental  alertness — in  contrast  to 


MENTAL  ACTIVITY.  273 

the  mental  state  of  the  fool  by  the  rational  collected  state  of  mind, 
and  by  logical  control  of  the  course  of  representation — in  contrast  to 
madness,  by  the  subordination  of  the  will  and  impulses  to  insight. 


g  106.    INTENSIFYING  OF   MENTAL  ACTIVITY  THROUGH 
DISEASED  CONDITIONS. 

We  find  as  a  side  piece  to  mental  diseases  those  rather 
rare  anomalous  conditions  in  which  the  mental  activities,  in 
consequence  of  somatic  influences,  experience  an  increase  in 
intensity,  though  this  for  the  most  part  is  one-sided. 

All  these  conditions  are  closely  related  to  sleep,  and 
externally  proceed  from  it  or  assume  its  form.  Clairvoyance, 
somnambulism,  and  mesmeric  sleep  are  among  these  condi- 
tions. During  these  states  the  consciousness  is  obscured  by 
somatic  influences  as  in  sleep,  thus  illuminating,  as  in  dreams, 
a  single  line  of  thought,  the  realm  of  clairvoyance.  What  no 
voluntary  effort  of  abstraction  during  waking  hours  is  able 
to  accomplish,  namely,  the  concentration  of  the  whole  men- 
tal activity  upon  a  single  line  of  thought  to  the  exclusion  of 
all  disturbing  minor  concepts,  is  brought  about  by  the  arti- 
ficial night  of  abnormal  sleep.  It  is  also  always  possible  that 
disturbances  of  mental  life  which  have  arisen  in  the  waking 
state  from  connection  with  an  unfavorably  organized  body 
may  be  intensified  by  abnormal  excitation  of  the  central 
organs,  and  the  soul  be  thereby  placed  in  a  state  of  greater 
freedom  from  the  determining  power  of  the  body,  thereby 
bringing  about  a  greater  activity  of  intelligence.  An  unnat- 
ural augmentation  of  intelligence,  however,  even  in  these 
states  has  never  been  observed;  an  important  piece  of  new 
wisdom  has  never  proceeded  from  the  mouth  of  somnambulist 
or  clairvoyant.  Just  as  little  can  the  night  walker,  who 
strides  in  safety  over  roofs,  withdraw  himself  from  the  rule 
of  natural  laws;  the  greater  skill  which  he  develops  in  sleep 


274  EMPIRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 

arises  from  the  greater  daring  given  to  him  by  abstraction 
from  the  sense  of  danger. 

Most  enigmatical  are  the  phenomena  of  the  so-called 
"mesmeric  sleep,"  which  are  artificially  produced  through 
certain  manipulations  by  the  mesmerizer  upon  a  person  sus- 
ceptible to  these  influences,  and  whereby  the  sleeper  remains 
in  a  certain  active  communication  (en  rapport)  with  the  mes- 
merizer, giving  the  most  astonishing  answers  to  questions 
proposed  to  him.  However  far  these  conditions,  for  lack  of 
authentic  cases,  may  be  removed  from  a  true  explanation, 
they  do  not  stand  out  of  all  analogy  to  normal  phenomena 
of  mental  life.  The  artificial  production  of  sleep  by  monoto- 
nous, sleep-inducing  impressions  is  a  well-known  phenomenon 
of  normal  soul  life,  and  the  one-sided  intensifying  of  the 
activity  of  the  mind  finds  an  explanation  in  the  abnormal 
concentration  of  consciousness.  The  "visions"  of  the  mes- 
merized are  always  related  in  some  way  to  his  favorite  notions, 
and  are  colored  by  the  rest  of  his  mental  life.  Thus  a  mes- 
merized pious  man  will  have  visions  with  a  religious  content, 
whereas  the  politician  will  prate  of  political  reform.  Finally, 
he  whose  whole  thought,  feeling,  and  will  are  in  excessive 
degree  yielded  to  one  person,  the  magnetizer,  will  in  his 
mesmerized  state,  be  governed  in  his  speech  by  this  person 
alone,  and  will  manifest  as  open  a  sense  even  to  his  slightest 
volitions,  as  the  sleeping  nurse  shows  to  the  most  insignifi- 
cant movements  of  the  child  intrusted  to  her  care.  What 
in  these  states  would  be  really  supernatural,  as,  e.  g.,  read- 
ing with  the  tips  of  the  fingers,  seeing  with  the  cavity  of 
the  heart,  etc. ,  was  not  established  before  scientific  examin- 
ing commissions,  and  belongs  to  the  realm  of  exaggerations. 

These  considerations  do  not,  therefore,  warrant  the 
acceptance  of  the  hypothesis  of  a  magnetic  fluid  active  from 
individual  to  individual  like  a  nerve  principle,  which  gave 
the  name  to  this  class  of  phenomena. 


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